


Desperate Measures

by niklovr



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niklovr/pseuds/niklovr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of the Dark Tower have a lasting effect on Arthur and Gwen. They deal with the trauma and issues of magic, while concerns about fertility arise. Magic reveal and other parts of season 5 are interwoven in this fic. Also, although this story was written first, it is technically a sequel to Destined for Greatness and links appear throughout with a major cross-link beginning after Part 14 of this fic and Chapter 8 of Destined for Greatness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Out of the Dark

Part One

Six months had passed since Arthur's love freed Guinevere from the dark, ruthless hold of Morgana's witchcraft. In the beginning, Guinevere greeted the morning in a cold sweat with the rapid pounding of her heart echoing inside her ear drums. Only the firm, yet gentle hold of Arthur's arms around her could still her disquiet. The low rumble of her name against her ear soothed her until the trembles subsided. It amazed her how he always knew what to do and what to say. Being left a weak, sniveling woman shamed her greatly, but he didn't seem to mind. In response, he loved her more. Fiercely. Tenderly. 

She hitched a breath as she thought of him. Unwilling to allow another tear to fall, she pressed her fingers to the corner of her eyes. Of course, that was the moment he would chose to seek her out. 

"Guinevere?" 

Although his footsteps were soft, she felt the vibrations as he hurried across the stone floor. In the next instant, his strong hands held fast to her shoulders and turned her to face him. Questioning blue eyes bored into hers. His full lips parted, but she spoke first.

"I'm fine, Arthur."

"I know you are," he said, a slight frown belying his words. 

"The council is over?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"So soon? You did not have to end it to check on me," she said. "Camelot comes first—"

"Never." He released her shoulders to take her hand. "Merlin is preparing a basket for us. We're meeting him outside the citadel."

Memories appeared to her in flashes. She pulled her hand free as she shook her head. Their first outdoor rendezvous ended with Uther discovering them and Guinevere coming close to meeting her fate on a pyre. The last one nearly cost Arthur his life and although Morgana orchestrated Arthur being thrown from the horse and the bandit attack, deep down inside Guinevere harbored twinges of guilt. She looked away from her husband's sympathetic gaze and simply said, "No."

"Yes, Guinevere." He stepped in close. His hands settled at her waist and the scent of him washed over her, filling her senses. Another step brought him closer still. He moved his head so that his lips pressed against her ear. "This is for us. To wipe away the bad memories."

She dug her fingers into his arms. The corded flesh flexed beneath the soft, white fabric of his favorite tunic. "How did you know?"

"I am not immune to your suffering." He kissed her forehead. "Nothing has ever had the power to come between us. Nothing ever will. Trust me. Come with me."

Since the release of the enchantment, she had willingly imprisoned herself inside the castle walls. Just knowing that Morgana had been able to use her and Arthur's great love for one another against them had tortured her soul. With Morgana still out there, she could not be sure that it would not happen again. She would rather die than be used as a pawn against her beloved. They had fought every obstacle to be together. Just the thought that she, Guinevere, would own the hand that rendered him lifeless and Camelot without its King was just too much to bear.

"Guinevere?"

A faint smile played at her mouth. His tone was both needy and demanding. Nerve endings pulsed without warning. Wanton images hovered at the back of her mind. She swallowed hard as she met his stare. A wicked gleam greeted her as well as a plea for her to honor his request. 

"Yes, Arthur."

A broad smile was her reward followed by a brief pass of his lips on hers. Then as if he dare not waste a moment longer, he wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and ushered her from their chambers. Once outside, the people greeted her with smiles and waves. The ride through the town was a lesson in humility. Guinevere had no idea how much she had missed the townspeople or they her. So many times Merlin or Gaius would mention an acquaintance from the lower town, but she would only dimly reply. Fear that everyone knew of her role in the attacks on Arthur's life had made her ashamed. Despite her dearest friends' protests to the contrary, she feared facing the masses just as much as becoming Morgana's pawn again.

Finally, the horses' gallops brought them onto the wooded trail. One glance at her husband's smirking face and Guinevere could not help but laugh.

"You did that on purpose."

"What?"

"You had them…greet me—"

"No," he said, quickly sobering, "I did not. True, we could have taken a different path, and I chose the one through town. However, the people's love and respect for you is true. They did not do that for me."

"Oh, Arthur." 

He smiled. "They have missed you."

"I have been negligent…"

"Care has been taken," he said, "I assure you, but they miss you. Your smile and your attention. You know each of them by name, and as much as I try, my love, I do not."

She sensed the heat rushing into her cheeks. "I do not know everyone's name."

Arthur grinned. "Maybe I exaggerate a bit."

"A bit?"

They both laughed. "Will you concede that you know most of them?"

She nodded. 

"This is the Camelot you dreamed of, isn't it?" he asked. "We're at peace. The people are not afraid. They're protected and prosperous. And you and I…we're fine, Guinevere."

His calm assurance started to break through. She allowed herself to enjoy the ride. A deep breath filled her with the riches of Mother Nature. The smell of fresh grass and blooming flowers made her smile. The warmth of the sun touched her face and she welcomed it. Chirping birds reminded her of the music played at their wedding. This was lovely.

After a while, Arthur guided them into a cove of overhanging branches. He hopped from his horse, tied it to a tree and came to her. Once she was safely on the ground, she took note of their surroundings. 

"Oh my," she murmured, clutching Arthur's arm.

"It's breathtaking, isn't it?"

A waterfall provided a backdrop to a fantastic wall of flowers and greenery. Trees reached to the sky and still managed to allow the sun's light to filter through. A mouth-watering buffet of cheeses, bread, and fruit lay ready for consumption on a blanket. A couple of bottles of wine stood between two shiny, silver goblets. Merlin bit back a smile as he adjusted some pillows and set another blanket just so.

"Hello, Merlin."

"Guinevere, you look lovely." He went to her and kissed her on the cheek. When Arthur began to grumble, Merlin pulled away. "I hope you find everything to your liking."

"I'm sure I will." 

She fought the urge to apologize to Merlin. Again. Her apologies made him uncomfortable and angered Arthur, but she didn't know what else to do. Accusing him of harming Arthur could have gotten him executed. Enough time had not passed for her to forgive herself for hurting the ones closest to her heart.

"Well, I'm off," Merlin said, unable to hold back his grin. "Unless you need me…"

"We don't," Arthur snapped. His hand rested on his sword for emphasis. "Leave us. Now."

"Yes, indeed, Sire."

Merlin's laughter echoed as he rode away. Guinevere barely had time to acknowledge it. Arthur had her settled on the blanket with a plate of delights in her hand before she could catch her breath. Then, he removed the plate and replaced it with a full goblet. His twinkling blue eyes met hers over the rim as he touched his goblet to hers.

"To us. To the past. To the present. To our future. To our love."

Guinevere could not help but to really focus on Arthur as he spoke. His commanding presence demanded it. She could never say that his love wavered. He pulled her through the darkness. Morgana never counted on their love being that strong. For months now, Guinevere had lingered in the shadows. With the spell broken, the remnants of fear remained. Icy, cold pricks of doubt poked her at the oddest moments. What if Morgana had something far worse planned? But truly, what could be worse than Arthur's death at Guinevere's hand? 

Yet, Arthur's steadiness in his care of Guinevere could not be rivaled. He had proven himself true to Camelot and to her. She could no longer deny herself the fullness of his love and protection. She had to accept it. She had to believe what she had never doubted before—that she was worthy.

"To our love," she repeated.

~*~

Arthur saw the glow return to Guinevere's honey brown eyes and it left him breathless. She had pretended so many times over the months to be whole again that it hurt his heart. Nothing he said was enough. Only in the morning before the sunrise when she woke with a start would she truly allow him to break through her walls of guilt and self-recriminations. Only then could he simply hold her and that was enough for Morgana's treachery to fall away. Day would break and the cycle would repeat. Yet, he never gave up hope.

He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but she was still fragile. He knew about guilt. Far too much. Now that she was coming toward him again, he would not burden her with questions about Morgana's sorcery. Not that he doubted its use in Guinevere's actions. He knew she would never harm him willingly. But he wondered about the methods. Sorcery had caused so much harm in his life. It was time he understood it better in order to defeat it effectively. His father always said that one should know thy enemy.

"Are you here?" she asked with a grape against his mouth.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be." He opened wide to accept her offering. 

They teased and flirted with pieces of fruit and bites of cheese. Arthur had missed this playful side of his wife. He groaned at her soft gasp as he smeared the juice of a strawberry across her ripe flesh. The responding moan as he bent to lick then suckle it off was like music to his ears. 

In seconds, she was underneath him. Teasing bites made her quiver. Flirtatious whispers of what he would do to her had her crying out his name. He didn't want their union to be hurried. She responded best to the slower flame. But it had been so long since she had truly been responsive. Since the fingers digging into his back were out of need and not out of duty.

"Arthur…"

The rest of her plea was devoured by his mouth. She tasted of succulent fruit and sweet wine. Her tongue sought his in urgency. He surrendered with great honor. A low grunt came from his throat in response to the insistent stroke of her thigh against his manhood. He whipped her skirts up in a frenzy to have better access. The material ripped but he was only dimly aware. When his hand slid along her smooth thigh, nothing else mattered.

The kiss ended amid a flurry of busy hands. Hers attended to the front ties of his trousers while he worked to remove her under garments. He would give anything to have her completely bare beneath him, but he could not wait. Slower flame be damned. He wanted her now.

Slick was the first word that came to mind as tested her readiness. He slipped a second finger inside to be sure. His thumb skimmed her sweet little button as he watched, transfixed at her reaction. The arching back and parted mouth encouraged him to increase him efforts. If their pace was less frenzied, he could indulge his need to taste her nectar, but not this time. Now, he just had to get her there quickly because he did not know how much longer he could wait.

"Ahhh…"

There, he thought. "Right there," he murmured against her throat just before he drove his manhood inside her. 

With great effort, Arthur held still. Just long enough for Guinevere to adjust to him. Just long enough for him to reclaim control. Then she grabbed hold of his backside. Her thighs clenched his hips. 

"Guinevere," he moaned. 

"Please, Arthur."

It pleased him to please her. He lived for it. Wild thrusts slid them across the blanket. His fingers digging into dirt alerted him that they were half on the grass. He didn't care about his attire, but grass stains would cause whispers and stares for his beloved. So he rolled over onto his back. Her barely constrained bosom bounced in front of his face. His thrusting increased as he palmed her breasts and squeezed. A nipple popped free and he pounced.

Their lovemaking had not been so crazed since the early days of their marriage. Sweat trickled down Arthur's back. He'd held himself off several times, but he knew he couldn't last much longer. With a final swipe of his tongue against her hard little bud, he bit down gently and succumbed to his release. Sliding his hand under the layers of fabric, he stroked Guinevere to completion as she rode out the remnants of release.

When their breathing returned to normal and their clothing had been righted, he continued to hold her close in his arms. A part of him feared this was yet another dream. He had had so many. He just needed her back. His Guinevere. 

"Are you asleep?" she asked.

"No." He slid his hand along her arm before linking their hands. "Not yet."

"This has been quite an outing."

He kissed her forehead. "Yes, it has."

"Thank you." She rested her chin on his forehead to look at him. 

The sun was beginning to make its descent, but he still managed to read her eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears. If he saw gratitude, he'd die. He blinked to be sure, but all he saw was love.

"It was my pleasure."

A giggle passed her lips. Then she became serious. "I love you, Arthur Pendragon, with all my heart."

"As I do you, Guinevere Pendragon, forever and always."


	2. Open Heart, Open Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen continues to work through her depression post Dark Tower events, and Arthur continues to worry.

Part Two 

Arthur quelled the urge to pace by walking purposely to the bedroom window. The position afforded him a view of the courtyard and the comings and goings of the castle. Even now, a few knights milled around a baker's wagon. Children chased a chicken into a corner. The bird's indignant squawking alerted a rotund man who grabbed the prey with one hand as he waved the young ones away with the other. Arthur smiled at the antics and became aware of how tense he'd become. 

If he were a cursing man, he would have muttered an oath at himself. He really should be relaxed. Calm. Content. Close to three weeks had passed since the blessed outing with Guinevere. Since then, she had blossomed. Light danced in her eyes. Smiles came easy to her full lips. When she touched him, he knew her caresses came from her need for him and not a misguided sense of obligation or an attempt to pretend that melancholy had released her from a state of distress. Finally, he had his wife back. Morgana had not been victorious in that regard. 

The clunky sound of armor on wood pulled him from his reverie. He tore his gaze from the window, but not his worries as he regarded his long-time manservant. 

"Merlin—" 

"Arthur, staring out the window won't bring her back any faster. You don't have to worry about her anymore." 

"I wasn't…" 

Arthur's denial faded. The other man knew him too well for the words to have any effect anyway. He joined Merlin at the table and assembled the latest maps of the Five Kingdoms into a full display of the region and tried to focus again. 

"She's in good hands with Leon and Mordred," Merlin continued. The swishing of rag on metal marked his words. "Besides, she just went to the lower town. It's her first trip there in months and the people love her. Nothing will happen to her." 

Arthur listened in silence. Wasn't that the same argument he'd had with himself when Guinevere began expressing interest to venture further into town? Her recovery meant everything to him so he offered encouragement at every turn. The Guinevere he fell in love with feared nothing. The Guinevere he still loved more than life itself harbored fears but that sentiment had been rightly earned. 

"Damn Morgana." 

Damn her quest for vengeance. Damn her lust for power. Damn her. 

Arthur clenched his hand into a fist. Without thinking, he slammed it on the table. Merlin, who had been watching him, didn't blink. He only set the armor aside and leaned back against the chair. In the old days, Arthur would have thrown something at him. But that was the childishness of youth. The Dark Tower had aged Arthur. It had aged them all. 

"We will find her." 

"You'll full of absolutes today," Arthur snapped. 

"I suppose I am." 

"Guinevere could have died because of her—" 

"You could have, too," Merlin said. "Morgana was after you." 

"She wanted both of us," Arthur replied. Yes, he understood that Morgana saw him as an obstacle to the throne. She'd made it abundantly clear that his death would not cause her a moment of distress. Yet knowing that she had used Guinevere… He harbored no doubt that Morgana knew his existence was forever tied to Guinevere. If anything happened to her, he would never be whole. 

"I have to know everything," he said quietly. 

"Percival and Gwaine's patrols are due back any day now. We're closer than ever to locating her." 

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck as he shook his head. "I'm not talking about that." 

Merlin sighed. "I can't read your mind." 

"Sometimes I wonder." Arthur didn't wait for a response. If he didn't continue with the conversation, he would lose the moment. He hated to admit it, but there were some things Merlin actually knew better than him. And that included his wife. "Guinevere is more like herself…" 

Merlin's face brightened. "Of course, she is! Have you seen her? Wait. Of course, you've seen her. The castle just feels different now. Optimistic. Even the cook is less of a grump and the food actually tastes better. Anyway, just yesterday morning, she joined Gaius in the woods. I didn't want to disturb them, but she was so…well, she reminded me of the Gwen from all those years ago." 

When Merlin finally paused to take a breath, Arthur couldn't help but say, "You do go on." 

The other man released a short laugh. "Well, it's all true." 

"I want to talk to her about Morgana," he blurted out. Arthur held himself still as he contemplated Merlin's reaction. To Arthur's annoyance, nothing was revealed. Merlin's face went from joyous to blank. "Well?" 

"Well what?" 

"You normally have an opinion about everything." 

"Oh so I'm allowed to have an opinion now," Merlin retorted. 

"Don't test me." 

Merlin nodded. Then he rose from the table and began to pace. His movements set Arthur on edge. He wanted to lash out but doing so would only cause a delay. If the last six months taught him anything, it was patience. 

"If you're afraid asking her about Morgana will bring the enchantment back, I don't believe it will." 

"That's not what concerns me." 

Merlin stopped and gestured for him to go on. This time, Arthur stood and walked the length of the table. The cadence helped him sort his thoughts and voice his deepest fear without sounding a fool. 

"I do not wish to send her mind back to that dark place, but I have so many questions. Sorcery has been used against us and against Camelot too many times. Unless we battle sorcery with sorcery, there must be another way to match it. To outwit it." 

"Arthur…" 

"I know, Merlin. I know Guinevere is just now returning to herself." He stopped at the chair Merlin had vacated. His gaze danced around the armor that still rested on the table. Some of the metal shone brightly and his reflection was like looking in a mirror. Other pieces were dull. Dirt and debris filled the cracks and covered the metal, preventing a clear image from coming through. That's how he saw magic. Or at least his understanding of it. 

"I just want to do everything I can to make sure that magic is never used like that again—on her or anyone else." 

"Guinevere won't have the answers you seek," Merlin said quietly. 

"Of course, my wife isn't a sorceress, Merlin." 

"I would never make that suggestion, Sire." 

Arthur sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "I didn't mean to snap." 

"Maybe talking about it could be helpful for Gwen," Merlin said. "She's been very quiet about that time. Other than apologizing…" 

"I thought she'd stopped." 

Merlin smiled. "Nothing this week or the last." 

"Good." 

Arthur returned to his study of the maps and Merlin to his cleaning of the armor. Now that he'd decided to gently broach the subject of Morgana with his wife, Arthur's thoughts turned to Merlin. The two of them had seen the best and the worst of each other and had survived the darkest times. He felt an odd twinge watching Merlin scrub through grit and grime when his counsel could not be assigned value. Knighting him seemed out of the question, but keeping him on as a servant was a disservice to them both. He would have to find a better role suited to the man's loyalty and wisdom. 

~*~ 

The return to the lower town had been nothing less than a success. Guinevere soaked up the smiles and well-wishes like they were rays of sunshine. For too long, her days had felt like clouds hung overhead. She could not allow herself to feel warmth or anything short of disappointment in herself. But those days were behind her now. Arthur's steadfast devotion and the people's obvious affection filled her heart. She would have a difficult time doubting the sincerity of either. 

Leon and Mordred were quiet beside her. She sensed their watchful gazes of their surroundings even though they never hinted at any danger. Hours had been spent reconnecting with her former neighbors and friends. She supposed it was time to head back before Arthur mounted a horse and started a search. 

Before the Dark Tower, she'd visit the township twice a month. Officially. Unofficially, her visits depended on need. If Arthur was home, her trips were frequent. If he was away on expedition or battle, she had no need to see a certain woman who kept an assortment of tinctures specifically for female concerns. As Tarran and the woman's remedies crossed Guinevere's mind, she wondered if a visit was not in order. 

Couplings with Arthur had been sporadic since he'd resurrected her mind and soul from Morgana's enchantment. So much so that her bottle of prevention had lasted longer than it ever had in all their years of marriage. However now that she had regained herself and her passion for Arthur seemed untamed at times, she perhaps should consider it. In fact, she was mildly surprised he had not brought the subject up by now. He had been so diligent in the past. 

"My Lady?" Leon touched her elbow. "Is something the matter?" 

Decades had passed since their childhood together but odd moments arose when Guinevere was reminded of how protective he could be of her and Elyan. 

Indecision continued to linger, but she shook her head. It was nothing that concerned her protection or his worry. "No, I'm fine." 

"Then perhaps we should return," he kindly suggested. 

The people had families to tend to, but they would not return to their daily business while she lingered in their presence. As much as she enjoyed being with them again, it was time to go home. Besides, she missed Arthur. 

"Yes, let's—" 

"My Lady…" A figure bowed low in their path. 

In unison, the knights stepped in front of Guinevere as they drew their swords. 

"Please, I mean the Queen no harm." 

"It's fine," Guinevere said, as she moved to the crouching subject. Upon close inspection of the bluish gray shawl and curly graying tendrils pushed into a messy bun, she recognized the subject of her thoughts. "Hello, Tarran." 

The older woman bowed again before she stood. Few lines marred the planes of her smooth brown face. Wisdom burning in her dark eyes gave the only hint to her age. Guinevere knew that she was slightly younger than her parents because her father had often teased her. 

"Your Highness, it is very good to see you." She extended her hand as the others had done. 

Guinevere accepted the gesture and the small bottle that was placed against her palm. "Thank you." She slipped the bottle into a pocket and smiled. "I trust you are doing well." 

"There is no better place than Camelot." She bowed again. "Good day, my Lady." 

The return to the castle was uneventful. The knights delivered her to Arthur with pride and he managed to conceal his relief to Guinevere's amusement. Ever attentive, he removed her cloak and her informed her that the evening meal would arrive soon. 

"We're having roasted pheasant with potatoes and carrots," he said rubbing his flat stomach, "and apple tarts for dessert." 

"Are you hungry?" 

A growl from his stomach answered. She laughed. "You could have eaten without me." 

"No, I prefer to wait." 

He draped her cloak over the back of a chair before heading to his chair. Once settled, he patted to his lap. "Come. I've missed you. Tell me about your visit." 

She removed the bottle from her pocket and then draped herself over her willing husband. They kissed soundly. His eagerness for her rivaled his for food as moans from his throat and growls from his stomach vibrated against her. They pulled away slowly. Her fingers drifted to the pulse beating rapidly at his throat while his caressed the underside of her breast. Layers of fabric did little to lessen the heat of his touch. She relished his desire for her. Still. After everything. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. 

"You are, too." 

He frowned. "No, men are not beautiful, Guinevere. I am not beautiful." 

"I disagree," she said. "You do not see what I see." 

"Battle scars, worry lines, a paunch—" 

She laughed. "I give you one of the three. Nothing more." 

"I do so love your laugh." His lips curved into a faint smile. "Did you have a good afternoon?" 

"It was very pleasant. Just like I remembered." 

"I told you so." 

He laughed as she poked him in the chest. "You promised not to." 

"I could not resist." The laughter faded and he continued to stare. "Truly, everything went well?" 

"Yes…" 

"What?" 

She showed him the bottle. At first, he only stared. Then recognition struck. He sighed. 

"We haven't been careful, have we?" 

"Just once or twice. My previous supply had not run out." 

He took the bottle from her. "It doesn't seem like it will be enough." 

"She was discrete." 

"I'll make sure she's compensated and that the next is ample for our needs—" 

"Arthur, maybe it's time for us to reconsider. Maybe it is time for an heir." 

He hugged her close for a moment. Next, he was on his feet and Guinevere was in his chair, looking up at him. 

"Not now, Guinevere. Not when I almost lost you." 

"What happened to your mother—" 

"It could very well happen to you," he cut in, harshly. "I will not take that risk." 

"But Camelot needs an heir," she argued. "You need a son." 

"I need my wife." 

The resolute tone of his voice and the clench of his jaw were signals Guinevere was all too familiar with. She understood his fear of losing her. Dread raged through her every time he donned armor and set out for battle. But a child…other than being his queen, she wanted nothing more than to make him a father. 

A knock sounded at the door. He said, "Just a moment." 

"Yes, Sire." 

He set the bottle on the table in front of her. "You will take this for me." 

"I wish to talk about this—" 

"Guinevere, our dinner is getting cold." 

She stood and pocketed the bottle. Arthur returned to his chair and she sat in the one beside him. As he called out for the servants to enter, she wondered if talking would be necessary. For the second time in the same number of days, the smell of apples clenched her stomach and food became hard to swallow. They had always been so careful before, but one slip was all it took. She pressed her hand against her abdomen, smiling as Arthur worked to make amends for their disagreement and deciding that a visit to Gaius was indeed on her list for the next morning.


	3. Hope, Fear and Internal Loathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen's has high hopes and Arthur's fears send him to a dark place.

Part Three

Gwen looked around the healer's quarters. She could not count the number of times she had found comfort within these walls. Gaius was more than the Court Physician and an advisor to the throne. He was her friend. Although she had not called his loyalty to be questioned while under Morgana's power, she still harbored some remorse at her behavior. As she chewed her bottom lip, she began to subconsciously rub her torso and marvel at how those closest to her had the kindness and the courage to forgive her.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Gaius said, closing the door behind him. "A simple exchange became more than I expected. I should have known better. Elinor likes to chat."

Gwen nodded. Her former neighbor had quite a reputation for commentary. "That she does."

He set a bunch of fresh herbs on the shelf and smiled at her. "Would you like some tea? Please have a seat, my lady. It has been too long since you graced my home with your presence."

"Oh, Gaius." She sat at table and watched as he set water to boil. Although he was one of the oldest members of the kingdom, she could not help but marvel at his agility. "Are you doing well?"

"I was about to ask the same of you." He gave her a friendly once over. "This isn't a social visit, is it?"

She lowered her gaze to pluck at the folds of her red skirt. The fabric was velvety, soft beneath her fingertips. Marriage to Arthur had changed her life in so many ways. Expensive clothing was just one of them. Sometimes, it felt like her previous life as a servant happened to another girl in another lifetime. But if the truth were told, she'd never forget the past. Deep at heart, she would always be a blacksmith's daughter.

"Gwen?"

"I'm afraid…" She swallowed hard as she raised her head to meet Gaius' worried stare. "No, I am not afraid. I'm…concerned and unsure."

"What is the matter?"

She pulled Tarran's bottle of prevention from her pocket and handed it to him. He promptly popped the cork and sniffed the contents. A frown added more wrinkles to his brow. 

"Lametto," he said. "I trust you know what this is for."

"Yes, I've used it for several years now."

He nodded. "Ah, I see."

"However, I have been remiss of late, and… I am concerned about taking it now."

His frown faded. He tried to conceal it, but Gwen noted that a spark of interest danced in his pale eyes. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Then the sound of boiling water set him into action. He fixed their tea and to her mild amusement, he returned to regard her with fondness.

"I'm not saying that I know for certain." She dare not get their hopes up. Yet, if anyone would know, it would be the physician. 

"Have you missed your monthly?" He pulled a chair and sat across from her.

"Um…no. Wait. I am late, but since everything that has happened, I have not been regular."

"How off have you been?" he asked.

She shrugged. The past six months had been a fog. Intimacy with Arthur had been sporadic at best. She had wanted to be a dutiful wife, but since he did not demand it of her… Well, letting go of the past had been hard. The release of the enchantment had been far easier than the letting go of all the pain and hurt her actions had caused. Even knowing that Morgana had been the cause wasn't enough for Gwen to extract herself of the guilt. So keeping track of her monthly issue other than recognizing that it wasn't nearly as consistent as it had once been became the least of her worries. She simply did not give it too much concern.

"I cannot say exactly. Perhaps a day or two."

"At the most?" he asked.

"I believe so. Perhaps three."

"May I?" He extended his hand toward her.

She nodded. 

Gaius pressed his hand against her abdomen. Still flat, she wondered what he could determine at this stage. If a child had been conceived on the outing with Arthur a few weeks ago, surely it would not be noticeable now. 

"How is your appetite?"

"About the same?" She wished she could be more forthcoming, but she was too unsure. Dare she hope for it to be true? How would Arthur respond? He was so adamant about forgoing the risk. They were happy again. She did not want to trade their happiness for anything. 

"Really?"

"Well, there's a problem with apples and this morning with eggs. I usually love eggs, but I could not swallow a bite this morning."

"Do not take any more lametto." Gaius pulled his hand away and reached for his tea.

"But Arthur…" She bit her lip. 

"What about Arthur?"

"Am I with child?"

"It would seem so," Gaius said.

She stood abruptly. Her footsteps took her to the small, raised window. From this distance, she could hear the bustle of Camelot and the laughter of children. For so many years, she had longed to hear the joy of hers and Arthur's child. Could it really happen now? So soon after Morgana's treachery?

"But are you certain?"

"Fairly so," he said. "The lametto is a preventive measure. It can do nothing for you now."

"Will it harm," she paused to place her hand against her, "the baby?"

"It could."

"Would you mind if I left it here with you?" 

"No." He took the bottle from her and then placed it among his other remedies. "Now, will you tell me about Arthur? It's his desire that you take lametto."

She nodded. "His mother died in childbirth."

"I know," Gaius said quietly. "I was there."

"He's afraid it could happen to me."

"There were circumstances to his birth… This is different. Besides, what about an heir?"

"He doesn't care about an heir." She folded her arms around herself. "He doesn't want to risk losing me again."

The older man sighed. "There's some Uther in him after all."

"Don't Gaius." A chill ran through her at the thought. "He's not like his father."

"He's letting fear control him." He joined her at the window. "I can be with you when you tell him."

"That won't be necessary."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes."

AG*AG

The morning's training session was less than stellar. Arthur barked orders and the knights responded either too quickly or too slowly for his peace of mind. Having them bloodied on the training field would do Camelot no good and taking out his frustrations on them was not only unfair but also unworthy of their dedication. Far sooner than usual, he called a halt to the proceedings and ordered them to report to their assigned posts after having their wounds tended. Their collective sighs of relief did not go unnoticed.

As he headed away from the training grounds, he saw the familiar figure of his wife in the distance. She walked with one of the guards into town. A mixture of joy and guilt filled him as he released a deep sigh. He watched until she left his view, feasting on her regal gait and innocent beauty even from this distance. Upsetting her pained him and that's exactly what he did last night. Ordering her about like a brute. Like his father. Like Uther.

The thought made his flesh crawl. He stormed into the castle. Deep in thought, he paid no heed to the servants who tried to pretend that they were unaware of his mood and he blatantly ignored the loud grumbling of Merlin who brought up the rear. As he stepped into his chambers, Arthur couldn't take off his armor fast enough. Only then did he notice how Merlin stood a few paces from him and simply stared.

"Are you a simpleton? Help me!"

"Yes, sire."

They worked together and finally Arthur was free of the metal protection and the chainmail. Before he could voice his next thought, Merlin appeared with water for bathing, soap, and a towel. 

"Would you prefer a bath?"

Dumbstruck, Arthur just shook his head. 

"I'll get a rush on lunch—"

"Merlin, wait."

He paused at the door. Like the knights, he seemed eager to vacate Arthur's presence, too. And Arthur didn't blame him one bit.

"There's no rush. I'll eat when Guinevere returns."

"Very well." He picked up the armor and chainmail. "I'll go clean these. Unless you need me?"

"Go ahead."

As the door closed, Arthur was grateful that for once Merlin did not revert to his usual stream of idle prattle. He had bitten enough heads off on the training grounds. He did not want to add more to the list. 

The cool water against his hot flesh did much to soothe his restless spirit. Guinevere's request unnerved him. Years ago, he had voiced his concerns about childbirth and its perils and she told him she understood. Tarran was a childhood friend of her parents. It was known that she provided tinctures for such matters and her connection to Guinevere guaranteed her discretion. He supposed that he foolishly believed that was all that was required. A willing wife and a remedy.

"Fool," he muttered under his breath.

He dried off and donned fresh clothing. Once dressed, he felt a sudden urge to move. His long strides took him deep within the castle. The steps were familiar. The path was one he'd often use when he was a boy. Before Morgana arrived, he would find solace within the quiet, tranquil walls of his mother's final resting place. He imagined the warmth and acceptance of Ygraine's unconditional love and since Uther was never as generous with his affection, Arthur craved that imaginary maternal care so desperately.

At the threshold, he paused to take a breath. How long had it been since his last visit? He could not remember. Morgana's treachery kept him occupied and Guinevere's recovery was always his main concern. But in truth, his mother was never far from his mind. He would always miss not having her in his life.

The crypt had a calming influence over him. It was strange, Arthur decided. How could a space that contained death grant him such peace? Yet, it did. He headed straight to her tomb. The stone structure was quite ornate in its design. Roses and ivy adorned the border in intricate detail. No doubt Uther found the best artisan in Camelot for his beloved's eternal bed. 

Air lodged in Arthur's throat. He had to cough to catch his breath. His beloved's eternal bed. That was it. His knees weakened and he leaned against the stone for support. To mourn his mother was one thing, but to mourn Guinevere…

Just to have an heir? The risk hardly seemed worth it.

Yet, how her eyes lit up at the suggestion. He could not deny how she was drawn to children. How the mention of a baby made her smile. How the sound of a child's laugh would make her pause mid-sentence to listen. Was he right to refute her wishes because he feared the loss of her? Because he could not imagine loving a child that took her away from him? Because deep inside of him, he was very much his father's son?

"Mother, I wish you were here," he said quietly. "I don't want to be like him."

A short while later he left the mausoleum. The answers he had sought were not given, but he felt less tightly wound. Still in need of solitude he went onto the roof for fresh air. Not long after the distinct scent of lavender drifted in the breeze. He turned with a smile to find his wife staring at him.

"I don't bite."

Dusky rose colored her cheeks as she said, "That's not always true."

He grinned back at her. "Indeed, it's not." He extended his hand. "Come."

Her smaller hand slid against his in a perfect fit. Soon, her head rested against his arm. "This is a lovely view."

"Not nearly as lovely as you."

"You flatter me."

"I speak the truth."

He kissed her forehead. Then he settled his hands at her waist and drew her to him. "I'm sorry about last night."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Yes, I do."

He hugged her close. She trembled in his grasp so he tightened his hold. 

"I don't know what I'd do if lost you."

"Don't you know that I fear the same?" she asked. 

"I know."

"Arthur, I—"

"Guinevere—"

They both laughed softly. Their holds loosened as they stepped back a space. Arthur looked down into her beautiful brown eyes. She smiled up at him. 

"You go first," she said.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about, but I could never find the right time or the right words."

She regarded him with a smile. "You needn’t find special words for me, Arthur. What is it?"

Arthur took Guinevere's hands. "Morgana…what do you remember about her enchantment?"

Her smile faltered. "Morgana?"

"Yes." He reached out and cupped her face. "I'm sorry. I thought enough time… Forget I asked."

"No, don't." She pressed her hand against his. "No apology, please. You wish to know about what Morgana did to me?"

Words lodged in his throat, but he managed to say, "Yes. If you wish to tell me."

"I do not wish to tell anyone." Her expressive eyes clouded with sadness. "No one should know such horrors."

"Then you should tell me." He bent down until they were eye level. "I'm your husband. You give me the horror and you will not bear it any longer."

"No, Arthur. You don't know…" Her eyes brimmed with tears. "You do not know. You do not want to know."

"Yes, I do," he said, wiping her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. "Release it to me, Guinevere. Release it to me."

"Very well, my lord," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I will release it to you."


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen tells Arthur about Morgana's torture.

Part Four

The intensity of Arthur's stare mesmerized Gwen. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to his unwavering scrutiny. How many times had their gazes locked across a crowded room while he was a prince and she was still only a servant? Despite being in engaged in conversation with his father or visiting royalty, his vibrant blue eyes always confessed his love for her. Whether it was a momentary glance or a longing perusal, Gwen could always read his eyes. And right now, they were telling her to let it all go. Finally. All of it.

He squeezed her hand. "Let's find shade."

She blinked. So stunned by his request and captivated by his attention, Gwen had lost recognition of their surroundings. The noonday sun was now high above them. She had failed to feel the heat of the sun or the tickle of breezes that blew against her skin. A short nod acknowledged his suggestion and they went to a stone bench, partially hidden in an alcove. 

Once seated, their bodies moved together to accommodate the small space. This little hideaway had provided them with sanctuary from prying eyes on many occasions during Uther's reign. Gwen's chest tightened as she remembered the sense of exhilaration of being with Arthur and the fear of being caught. Somehow, no one had ever happened upon them again.

Arthur pulled her hand onto his lap and covered it within both of his. "Whenever you're ready…unless you've changed your mind?"

"I haven't. It's just—" She swallowed hard as her thoughts returned to that fateful afternoon. Her bout of melancholy had put her in a fog, but some memories would never be lost. 

"Guinevere?" He cupped her face tenderly. "It's just what?"

"I don't know where to start."

"Wherever you want," he said with quiet emphasis. 

She nodded. How to begin, she wondered. For the past six months, she had created a strange pattern of reliving it in her mind and then pushing it far, far away. Now, Arthur wanted to know…everything. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand. Another sign of encouragement. As if his gentle voice and calming presence wasn't enough, he added a tender caress. Gwen found a faint smile curving her mouth despite the hesitation that continued to grip her. 

Very well. She could do this.

"I remember—"

"Arthur!" Pounding footsteps joined Merlin's shout. "Gwen!" 

True to form, Arthur muttered an oath. "I'll have him beheaded."

"Arthur, no," Gwen murmured.

Before she could say more, Merlin found them. His wide smile faltered as he took in Arthur's murderous glare. Gwen wanted to reassure him, but Arthur spoke first.

"Leave us."

"Your lunch is—"

"Now," Arthur bit out.

"Arthur!" Gwen nudged her husband with an elbow to his ribs. He barely moved.

"Well, it's getting cold!" Merlin said as he backed away slowly. "Is something wrong?"

"We're fine, Merlin," she said. 

"Would you like me to bring your lunch here?"

She looked at Arthur. The thought of food now turned her stomach, but he always had a healthy appetite. She did not want him to go hungry out of obligation to her. 

"No," he said, his tone softer as he looked at her. "We'll eat later."

"I'll leave you then," Merlin said.

Arthur nodded. A tight smile barely parted his lips. "That would be wise."

"I'll make sure no one disturbs you." Merlin directed this to Gwen first and then Arthur.

Gwen thanked him and then he left.

Arthur released a loud breath. "I'm sorry. He has no sense of decorum."

"He's our friend. He always has been," she said. "I think he was concerned. That's all. He worries about you, you know?"

"And I worry about you." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Would you be more comfortable in our chambers?"

Gwen considered his offer. Birds flew overhead. The sky was clear and bright. There wasn't a cloud to mar the beauty of the day. Nature was giving her an open invitation to free herself of the past. She didn't want to unleash those memories in the sanctity of their home. Outside was better. It just was.

"No, I like being out here with you."

"Have you changed your mind?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll understand if you have—"

"I haven't," she said quickly. "Merlin's arrival actually helped."

"Did it?" Arthur sounded unconvinced.

She smiled. "Yes and promise me, you will not give him a hard time later. He did not know he was interrupting."

"He frustrates me so."

"Arthur, promise me."

He sighed. "This time." He relaxed against the stone wall of the castle and pulled her even closer against him. "Any time you're ready."

Gwen began without any further hesitation. "I wish to start with my memories of the day."

"Anywhere you choose, my love," he said.

"I mostly remember that everything felt so pleasant. Being with the knights and Elyan… The only thing missing was you."

Arthur stiffened. "I should have been there."

"That's not what I meant and I do not wish for you to take it that way," she said. "Had you been there worse would have happened."

"The worst did," he said in a hoarse whisper. "She took you away from me."

The desperation in his tone touched her. "I'm back now."

"Yes. You are."

They sat still for a moment. The sound of Arthur's heartbeat pounded loudly in the quiet. Or was that hers? She couldn't be sure. Because of Morgana, they had come so close to losing each other far too many times, but like Arthur said, this had been the worst. 

After awhile, Gwen found her words again.

"It happened so fast. The horses reared. The knights fell. Elyan told me to…to leave so I did. But then Morgana was there." She paused as the image of her former friend came to mind. Hate flashed like fire in the other woman's pale eyes. "She was just standing there and I tried to get away, but… The next thing I remember my hands were bound and I was on the ground. I told her you'd never come for me—"

"That was a lie," he cut in. "I will always come for you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"I know," she said quietly. "Morgana knows that, too. I didn't want her to hurt you. If I could live that day over, I would have—"

"You mustn't blame yourself. You have to stop blaming yourself, Guinevere. You must. Morgana caused all the hurt and harm. Not you. Tell me you understand."

In a way, she did understand, but Morgana knew the best way to get to Arthur was through Gwen. How could she not blame herself? 

"Guinevere?" His voice deepened. 

"I hate that she used me."

"I hate that she hurt you."

Sudden tears filled her eyes. "And Elyan is dead."

"And that, too." Arthur's hold tightened. "Morgana did all of this. Not you, my love. It wasn't you."

She brushed the tears from her eyes. He was right. The past six months had been filled with guilt and sadness with momentary bursts of happiness only to have the cycle repeat. Arthur had been her source of strength, wanting and begging her to see that the worst was over. She was home with him at Camelot, and he would never let her go. She believed him, but the pain of losing her brother and the weight of the actions committed while under Morgana's spell were heavy burdens. Being free of those feelings were a gift—a gift born from her husband's love.

"You do not have to continue," he said. "Maybe you should rest."

"I'm fine." She drew in a deep breath and carried on. Once started, she had to keep going. He wanted to know and she needed to tell him. "Morgana bound my hands with a rope. She tied the other end to her saddle. She rode on horseback and I followed behind on foot. That's how we left the forest and arrived at that tower."

His breathing had changed at the mention of rope. By the end, tension sparked from his body like jolts of lightning. Gwen chanced a glance at his face. Dots of red darkened his high cheekbones. Water filled his eyelids. His generous full lips had thinned into a hard, angry line. She'd seen him angry before, but never this furious. 

"She tethered you like an animal?" he asked through clenched teeth. Just barely getting the words out. 

"Yes."

His gaze locked on hers. A tear rolled down his cheek. Yet, Gwen knew his anger had not diminished. 

"I will not rest until she is put to death." He hugged her to him. "She is vile and evil. The person who grew up with me no longer exists. Magic did this to her."

She moved out of his embrace to read his face. "I do not believe it was magic that changed her."

"But she used it on you," he argued.

"Yes, but it was magic that helped bring me back," she said. "Magic and your love. I cannot believe that all magic is bad."

He stared at her. Gwen wondered if he was connecting her ideas about magic to Morgana's actions. They had been taught that magic was evil, but she could not forget that he had turned to it to save her. And it worked. She would not let him forget it either. Regardless of all the torment Morgana had put them through, magic had reunited them. 

"Do you care to go on?"

"I wish to do so," she said. "At the tower, she led me to a dark room. A trace of light filtered through a small window, but it was mostly darkness. I was frightened, but I tried very hard not to be."

"I know you did. You're very brave."

His confidence warmed her heart. She needed it for the rest was much harder than the beginning. Without thinking, she clutched his hands.

"The screams started as soon as she locked me in."

"Screams?" Arthur asked. "Who was screaming?"

"I don't know," Gwen said with a shudder. "They were endless. Loud and piercing. Then it would stop only to start up again. Over and over. Roots hung from the ceiling. I couldn't see them clearly, but I kept bumping into them. Black oil dripped like raindrops. I couldn't get away from it. There was more screaming. And visions."

"Visions?"

"Of Elyan…Merlin…you," she said quietly. "Laughing at me. Mocking me. I couldn't take it anymore."

She started crying. Arthur rocked her in his arms. He told her that she could stop now. 

"That's enough."

"No, I have to tell you everything," she insisted. "Morgana would come in and talk to me like we were old friends. I resisted…but I don't know when I failed."

"You never failed," he stated. "She enchanted you."

"It must have been the roots and the oil with the screaming and the visions. Those are my last full memories of that time. And being very frightened and wanting…" Gwen stopped and swallowed a deep breath.

"Wanting what?" he prodded.

"Wanting you to save me even though I feared what she would do to you."

He stiffened for a moment. Then he relaxed and caressed her arms. "We came, but not before the enchantment took hold."

"I know."

"What do you know?"

"I know when you came," she answered, sniffling.

"You do? How?" he asked. "I thought the enchantment claimed all of you."

"Most, but not all." She pulled away slightly as she remembered. "It felt like I was looking through a long, dark tunnel and I couldn't get through. I had no control over my actions, my words… It was truly horrid. When you fought for me beside the lake, it was like pushing through a fog to get to you. I wasn't sure of anything anymore."

"Do you remember what happened during the enchantment?" he asked.

"You mean what I did to you…to Tyr?" she asked.

"It wasn't you," he said sternly. "But yes, do you remember any of it?"

"Some, but it's the emptiness I remember most. I remember touching you, but not feeling you. It wasn't me."

"No, Guinevere," he said as he moved to cup her face between his palms, "it wasn't you."

AG*AG

Arthur thought he had been through the worst of it, but listening to Guinevere recount her memories made him realize that he was wrong. A multitude of emotions took over him. He wanted to cry his sorrow for the pain his beloved had endured. Then the urge to scream out his rage had followed at the indignities Morgana had inflicted on her. The audacity of trussing the Queen behind a horse! He slammed his fist down hard upon his thigh. The pain barely registered, but Guinevere shifted in her sleep. He caressed her cheek and she settled down again. Concerned that he would wake her from her nap, he willed himself to breathe evenly.

Even though she tried to disguise it, the talk had tired her. His insistence that she take a nap had not met an argument. If he could have calmed himself, he would have joined her. Instead, he found comfort in watching her rest. 

His heart swelled just looking at her. She was so innocent and perfect in slumber. But she was the same awake, too. When she first came to Camelot as Morgana's handmaiden, he had never imagined the joy of loving her and having that love returned. There had been many princesses paraded before him at Uther's command but none had ever compared to the beautiful woman who lay in his bed. Once he fell for her, he could not imagine his life with another. 

Arthur removed her hand from under the covers and brought it to his lips. In the early days of their courtship, her hands had been rough from labor but now they were soft and gentle. He adored them either way. After he kissed her hand, he continued to hold it and consider what she said. 

Yes, but it was magic that helped bring me back. Magic and your love. I cannot believe that all magic is bad.

After the torture Morgana's enchantment had put her through, his Guinevere held onto the belief that there could be some good in magic. He wondered if that could be true.

The creak of the opening door interrupted his thoughts. Merlin sauntered in and Arthur's temper flashed.

"For the love of Camelot, learn how to knock!" he whispered harshly as he rose from the bed.

Merlin stared for a moment. With a quick nod of his head, he turned to leave.

A sudden bout of contrition hit Arthur full force. He moved quickly to stop Merlin. He placed a hand on the other man's back and ushered him into the hall. 

"Guinevere is resting," Arthur said. "I don't want her disturbed."

Merlin nodded. "Neither of you have eaten."

"I'm not hungry."

Merlin's mouth gaped open in surprise, but for once, he offered no back talk. Arthur appreciated the change.

"We spoke of Morgana," he said, almost choking on his sister's name. "Guinevere remembers a great deal."

"I'm sorry."

Arthur glanced into the room. She was still asleep, but he needed to be close in case she woke up. He pulled the door to just enough to hear her and then he stepped aside to rest his back against the wall. Torchlight flickered across Merlin's face and Arthur read the man's concern and interest. Guinevere was right. He had always been their friend.

"Despite the enchantment and how we nearly lost her, Guinevere does not lay the fault on magic," Arthur said. "Magic helped save her."

"A sword isn't dangerous in and of itself," Merlin said. "It depends on the person who wields it."

Arthur's head cocked in surprise. "So you're likening sorcery to swordplay?"

"Perhaps not all magic is bad."

"Your opinion has changed?" Arthur asked. 

Merlin's jaw tightened. He looked down at his hands as he began to speak. "There are various forms of magic. Events happen that… Arthur, I was wrong before. There can be a place for magic."

"Do you really believe that?"

"We have Gwen back. Your love for each other did most of the work, but the old sorceress helped. You met her," Merlin said. "Do you think she was an evil person?"

The old woman had been strange, but Arthur hadn't sensed any duplicity in her person. She seemed to want Guinevere to come back almost as much as Arthur. When he had come close to pulling his love into the lake, it was the old woman who firmly guided him not to. She could have easily led him astray, but she didn't. 

Arthur shook his head. "She was…different, but she was true."

Merlin nodded. "I'll let the cook know that you'll have something later."

He moved down the hall.

"Merlin, wait."

"Sire?"

Arthur followed, but he stayed in close range to his chambers. "You have been…quite a manservant."

"Yes?"

"Um, but I've been thinking."

"Have I done something to offend you?" Merlin asked quickly.

"No. Well, no more than usual."

They both laughed.

"Actually, your talents are being wasted," Arthur said, in full seriousness. "You're clumsy and haven't a clue about knocking. Yet, you are quite sensible at times. I have a new role for you."

"A new role? Not as your manservant?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I need a liaison. Someone I can trust. I haven't all the details, yet, but magic…Camelot… Morgana's darkness must come to an end. I can't fight her efficiently if we are unequal. 

"But she is a High Priestess. She practices dark magic, Sire."

"It is not my wish to practice dark magic," Arthur explained.

Merlin released an audible sigh of relief. "What would a liaison do?"

"Well, you have a sense about things," Arthur said, his hands moving for emphasis. "And it's usually spot on. I wish to—"

"Arthur?"

He paused at Guinevere's call. Arthur looked from the open door back to Merlin. "We'll speak on this in the morning. Bring us our dinner now and then you're released of your manservant duties. We'll discuss the rest tomorrow."

Arthur returned to his wife and found she didn't look as rested as she should. A frown marred her beautiful face. He worried that she had had a bad dream.

"Should I have Gaius summoned for sleeping spirits?"

She shook her head. "I have already seen Gaius." 

"Merlin said you picked herbs with him—"

"No, that was yesterday." Guinevere rose from the bed and moved toward him in the center of the room. She took his hands. "I saw him earlier today."

"Are you ill?"

"Not exactly."

"You're scaring me, love. What is the matter?"

"There is something I wish to tell you," she said quietly. "Please do not be angry with me." 

"Never." He caressed her shoulder. "Just tell me. What troubles you?"

"I wanted to tell you before, but you asked me about Morgana." Biting her lip, she looked away. 

Her restlessness was very much unlike her. He frowned as he tried to assess the reasons behind her behavior. Had his questions been too much? Had the memories overwhelmed her? Perhaps he should send for Gaius. 

"Guinevere, come back to bed."

He took her hand and pulled, but she refused to budge. 

"Please, Guinevere," he said, half ready to carry her if need be.

"Arthur," she said his name with gentle assurance as she pressed her fingers to his jawline, "I am with child."


	5. Misplaced Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur deals with the news and Merlin gets a new role.

Part Five

"I am with child."

Gwen had never intended to just blurt the words out. Delving into her memories of Morgana's torture had been cleansing regardless how surprising the request. When she found Arthur on the roof, her goal had been to share the news of her condition with him. Waiting would have been easier, but it didn't feel right. She would not have rested well if there were any secrets between them. 

But then he asked her about Morgana. 

Her remembrance of that dreadful time returned to the forefront of her mind. Once those images bore into her subconscious, there was nothing she could do except tell Arthur everything. The resulting exhaustion came as no surprise, but once she awakened, she could not bear him not knowing. Even if that meant his anger would come with that knowledge.

Now, silence hung between them. The beautiful blue eyes that were always so readable became blank. His lips parted as he drew in a harsh breath. Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. She had tried to prepare herself for his anger, but not his silence. The quiet was unsettling. She needed him to say something.

Instead, he turned away and headed to her bedside table. Almost frantically, his fingers moved through the bottles of fragrances and oils that covered the top. 

"Where is it?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"What, my lord?" Gwen followed at half steps. 

"The ti-tincture!" He bit out with a snap of his fingers. "The lametto. It was a full bottle. Where is it?"

Without thinking, she placed a hand on her abdomen and stepped back. "Gaius has it. He says—"

A sharp knock on the door announced Merlin's arrival with their dinner. Arthur watched the movement of her hand before inhaling another gulp of air. Then he told Merlin to enter. 

To Gwen's amazement, Arthur's demeanor became almost normal while Merlin served their food. Her husband led her to her chair and waited as she sat. He even engaged in an easy banter with Merlin until their friend finished his task and left them alone again. 

The plate of fresh fruit, roasted chicken with root vegetables and bread made her stomach turn. It wasn't the usual nausea that attacked at the smell of apples and eggs. This unease was brought on by Arthur's persistent silence. Gwen could not bear another moment of watching him tear into his meal with eagerness that did not match the blank stare in his eyes. Their marriage had been one of open discussion and she needed that so much right now. 

"Arthur, plea—"

"Merlin will no longer be my manservant," he announced as he viciously tore apart a piece of chicken. 

"What?" she asked, taken aback. "Why not?"

"As of tomorrow morning, he will have a new position. He will become Camelot's official liaison regarding magic."

She sipped from her goblet to calm herself. This turn was unexpected to say the least. "What does that mean?"

He shrugged, his eyes not quite reaching hers. "I'm not sure exactly, but he always has a sense about things and it has more often than not saved our lives."

"Have you changed your mind about magic?" she asked. His expression was still unreadable. A glance at his plate told her that he was making more of mess than he was consuming the food. For all his bravado, he was still as agitated as she was.

"Not exactly, but like you said, it returned you to me. It can't be all bad."

He made a move to leave the table. She reached for his hand.

"Arthur, please. We need to talk about the baby. You must say something."

"There is nothing to be said." He pulled his hand away and left the table. 

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to succumb to them. Unable to move, she listened to his movements. His hands in the wash basin. The whip of the towel as he dried his hands. His heavy footsteps as he moved behind her again. Then his hands on her shoulders. He flexed his fingers against her, kneading gently. 

"You mustn't fret," he said in a coarse voice she barely recognized. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm going out for a bit. Do not wait up for me."

She watched him leave. Soon after, servants came to clear the table. Her handmaiden helped her prepare for bed. Through it all, Gwen's thoughts remained on her husband. Was there a better way she could have told him? Would he remain distant throughout the months until the child's birth? The sense of despair following Morgana's torture and enchantment had been truly horrid, but to carry Arthur's child inside her womb and not share that joy with him hurt Gwen more than she could express.

Alone in the chamber, she lit a few candles and crawled into bed. Arthur didn't want her awake when he returned but she knew sleep would not come until he was beside her. His hard body soothed her. Locked in his embrace, she always had a good night's sleep. Even if he did snore just a little. Whenever he was away at war, sleep became a memory. Whether it was worry for him coupled with the loss of his body next to hers, Gwen couldn't be sure. She just knew that their chambers was not fully home unless he was there with her, too.

A long while later, just as the candles had nearly flickered out, the outer door opened. Gwen lay still as the familiar footsteps paused at the table. A low grunt carried to her as the sound of empty boots thudded on the stone floor. The soft whispers of clothing being tossed aside soon followed. She knew Arthur's habits so well that her eyes were closed by the time he had washed and dressed for bed and crawled in beside her. 

It seemed that time held still as she waited. Would he hold her as he always had or would he turn his back to her? She had to remind herself to breathe. She didn't like this. Speaking her mind had always been second nature to her, but this was unlike anything they had ever quarreled about before. Yet, holding her tongue would not bode well for any of them, especially not for the little one that was growing inside of her.

Then the covers shifted. One of his legs moved between hers and his hand slid across her still flat abdomen, caressing her gently. She rested her hand on top of his, sighing as he laced their fingers together and moved in close enough that his breath tickled the curve of her neck.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?" he murmured.

"Please tell me what you're thinking."

He paused for just a moment as if weighing the words carefully. "I'm afraid."

Gwen nodded. She had thought as much. Perhaps this news had come too soon after their talk yesterday. Wanting a child and suddenly finding herself carrying one was overwhelming to her, too. But joyous. Oh, how she had longed to be a mother to her beloved's heir. If only Arthur could see the joy in what their love had created and not give so much attention to what could very well never come to pass.

"I do not wish for you to be afraid," she said.

"I know." He took hold of her night dress and gently tugged. "May I?"

"Yes, my lord." 

She rolled onto her back and noticed a frown flicker across his face. A moment later, he removed her night dress with his usual deftness. Their gazes locked. Despite the low candlelight, Gwen was finally able to read his eyes. Love radiated like starlight in the midnight sky. 

"I'm sorry about before."

"Ssh." She pressed her hand against his mouth. "Don't."

"I know I hurt you. There's no excuse… I wasn't expecting…that."

He placed his hand on her abdomen again. His fingers splayed wide. His thumb slid back and forth, leaving tingles in its wake. Gwen's breathing quickened.

"Can you feel anything?"

"Well…" She giggled.

He chuckled. "I don't mean that. I mean…th-the baby. Does it feel like a baby inside?"

"No, I don't feel anything. It's too soon."

He nodded. A contemplative frown added another crease to his brow. "We've been remiss with the lametto, but I thought… How did you know? Are you sure?"

"I've been a little sick—"

"Sick?" His jaw tightened.

"Keeping food down. It happens for some women."

"Oh."

She caressed his cheek. "Really, Arthur. It's normal."

"Normal," he murmured. 

"Gaius says the lametto will cause more harm than good now."

Arthur stared at her for a moment. "I see."

"I want you to be happy about this."

"Are you happy?"

She hesitated. His question shouldn't have come as a surprise. Her comfort was always one of his top concerns. It wasn't true of many marriages. Most husbands behaved as if their wives only role was to see to their needs and desires, but not Arthur. He told her that her happiness gave him profound joy. She hoped it would remain so.

Gwen traced a finger along his bottom lip. "I want you to be happy."

"That doesn't answer my question," he said, nipping her finger. "Tell me true. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Next to you…more than anything."

His eyes brightened but concern still lingered in the depths. Then, his gaze wandered over her naked form. Gwen shivered under his lengthy perusal.

"There will be changes," he said.

His hand rubbed circles on her over her flat belly for emphasis. A finger teased the edges of her navel. His caresses then moved to her breasts. 

"Here too," he murmured.

With tender brushes of his fingers, he traced her fullness. Sparks of awareness rippled through her. She'd never been quite this sensitive before. A faint smile curved Arthur's lips as his touch remained feather light and quite maddening.

"Mmm…" Gwen found herself unable to lay still. She rolled to face him. Her hands slid under his night shirt. His hard chest felt like bliss underneath her palms. Silken chest hairs teased her fingertips. 

"Guinevere? Are you sure?"

"Quite," she replied.

His night shirt joined her night dress in a heap at the foot of the bed. His pants were next. The first taste of his lips was intoxicating. Open mouth, Gwen suckled his bottom lip. A swipe of his tongue on hers sent her into a state of urgency. The kiss deepened until they had to part for air.

She loved the feel of him. His hardness against her softness. He smelled of soap and earth and Arthur. While other scents made her ill, his only drove her desires. Kisses along his jawline made him groan. A swipe of her thumb against his hard nipples had him pulling her on top of him. 

One hand massaged the nape of her neck while the other grasped her backside. Their new position gave her full awareness of his arousal. The thick member jutted for attention and she eagerly closed her hand around his throbbing erection, guiding it to the apex of her thighs only to find the backside of Arthur's hand blocking entry.

"Not yet," he whispered.

"Arthur?" 

His response came in the form of movement and positioning. Before Gwen could comprehend his intent, he lay completely beneath her so that she straddled his face. His strong hands took firm hold of her hips to bring her straight to his waiting, hungry mouth. 

"Awww…"

Gwen grasped the headboard with one hand while with the other, her fingers threaded his silky flaxen strands as his head moved against her. Arthur's tongue made her dizzy with its thrusting and constant probing. He placed his hand on her backside and squeezed. With every swipe of his tongue, Arthur teased the ache that was building inside her. If he wasn't holding her, she would have lost her balance.

"Arthur!"

But he didn't stop. If anything, her cry only fueled his efforts. The sound of his sucking mouth sounded loud in the quiet room. His mouth, tongue and fingers explored her thoroughly. Her body trembled. She shuddered as the exquisite torture shook her to the core. After taking one last lick, Arthur finally slid from under her. 

"Guinevere," he murmured against her skin, kneeling behind her. 

He gave her a few moments to catch her breath, but only a few. Then his arousal pulsed between her thighs as he planted open mouthed kisses along her shoulder. He braced a hand on the wall. The other hand traced a fiery trail down her quivering body. Everywhere he touched, Gwen burned. Every caress left her wanting more. By the time, he reached her wet center again she was ready to explode.

"Now, you are ready," he whispered.

The deep tones of his voice were just as exhilarating as his caresses. When he finally entered her, she felt she would burst from the magnificence of it. The way he filled her. The way he moved inside her. How his hot breath scorched her shoulders. And the way his pelvis thrust against her backside. Slow and deep. Then, hard and fast. 

The sounds of their lovemaking—of their bodies and their cries—echoed in her mind.   
The first spasm hit her and Gwen clawed the headboard. 

Her senses reeled and Arthur was her rock. He grounded her while she spiraled to ecstasy. Soon, his release overpowered him, too. His seed filled her and he pumped inside her until he was left drained and spent. 

Later, they lay entwined in each other's arms. She with her head on his shoulder was quite content with his arms wrapped tightly around her. The steady thump of his heart lulled her to a sense of peace like a lullaby. When he spoke, it startled her. He rubbed her back as an apology.

"I thought you were still awake," he said.

"I am." She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

Arthur laughed. "Barely. Go to sleep."

"No, I'm listening." Her eyelids were drooping, but she was fully capable of hearing him.

"You must do everything Gaius tells you," he said. "You cannot over burden yourself."

She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his palm. "You mustn't worry. All will be well."

"Once there was a time that I believed that but almost losing you has taught me different." He hugged her close. "Promise me that you will take care."

"I promise."

AG*AG

Arthur had to bite his cheek to remain impassive at Merlin's eagerness. Even as the thought of Guinevere's condition haunted him with worry, he could not ignore the excitement that bounced from his former manservant. 

Former manservant, Arthur thought. That would take some getting used to. 

Years of having the lanky chap at his beck and call had become as familiar as breathing air. Yet, true to his word, Arthur knew the time had long come to recognize Merlin's abilities far exceeded cleaning armor, emptying chamber pots, and serving dinner. Too many times to count, Merlin's sensibilities had been equally as valuable as a well-weighted sword or a sharpened dagger. 

"You said you'd have more details," Merlin said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. "I was up all night trying to imagine what a liaison to magic would do. Is magic still outlawed?"

Arthur hesitated. The answer to the question wasn't easy. Of course, the short version was yes, but after using magic to save his Queen, he would be a hypocrite to still harbor that opinion. 

His Queen.

And just like that, his mind turned to Guinevere. If her memories about Morgana had not been torture enough, she blindsighted him with news of a child. Their child. Not only did he have to worry for his wife's safety during childbirth but also during the months leading to it. If Morgana caught word of an heir, no doubt she would go to great lengths to make sure the child would not draw breath. Having his wicked sister come after him was one thing, but he would see Camelot in ruins before he let her hurt Guinevere again. Guinevere or their child.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Merlin," he said, his voice weary. "The details…"

"The details can wait. What's the matter?"

Arthur frowned. One of the things he hated about having Merlin as his manservant was the other man's ability to read him. Arthur hated knowing he couldn't keep everything inside. But he supposed that maybe it wasn't a bad thing.

"How is Gwen?"

"What makes you think it's Guinevere?" Arthur snapped. Damnation! Was he really that easy to read?

Merlin shrugged. "After the talk about Morgana, I wondered if she slept well."

"She slept fine," he said. "Thank you for your concern."

"You know she's dear to me. I'd do anything for her."

Arthur nodded. He knew. "I appreciate that." 

He straightened in the chair and forced himself to redirect his focus. Merlin's new position would be of great aid to Guinevere and the kingdom, but it would not matter if Arthur could not voice it.

"Perhaps liaison is not the appropriate title," he began. "We'll consider the wording later. You have always been in a very unique position regarding magic—"

Merlin stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"As Gaius' ward, you've had an up close view of the old ways that many of us have not been privy to," Arthur explained. He noticed how Merlin drew tight and then relaxed, but he paid it no mind as he continued. "Gaius was around during the time of the Old Religion before the executions. I know that he still has knowledge of those times, but there will come a time when he may no longer be with us."

Merlin's face dropped.

"I do not anticipate that any more than you," he said, kindly. "His guidance in all things has been invaluable."

The other man nodded. "He does know a great deal about the Old Religion."

"I want you to learn everything." Arthur drew in a deep breath before he confided the rest. "Find out if any of it can be used to fight Morgana."

"Arthur?"

"I know."

"But in order to use it, we'll need someone to practice it," Merlin said slowly. "Those who haven't sided with Morgana are afraid to come out of hiding. They fear execution."

"Unless they are in alliance with Morgana, no one will have any reason to fear."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "Does this mean you're lifting the ban against magic?"

"I don't know, but there are extenuating circumstances and I am willing to consider it."

The afternoon passed quickly with Council affairs. If Arthur could have postponed the meeting, he would have. Guinevere's presence made the time somewhat enjoyable, but he couldn't help but be distracted. He yearned for time to accept her news. He needed more than her heartfelt assurances that she would be fine. Arthur loved her efforts to reassure him, but sadly, they were not enough.

He walked her back to their chambers. She had an appointment with the court seamstresses. Once she was settled and he was pleased with the guards assigned to keep watch of her, he went in search of Gaius.

The Court Physician greeted him with a smile, but there was a hint of wariness in his eyes. Arthur sighed. Guinevere must have confided her concerns about his reaction. A flicker of annoyance swept over him. Not at her or at Gaius, but at himself. After everything they'd been through… He had to find a way to be at peace with this. 

"Hello, my Lord."

"Gaius," he said with a faint smile. "Guinevere has shared the news with me."

The older man nodded. "How is she today?"

"A little tired," Arthur said, "which is why I'm here. She says it's normal to be sick and unable to keep certain foods down."

"It is," Gaius said. "For some, they are unable to eat anything."

"Oh dear." Arthur ran a hand over his face. "For how long?"

"It depends. Several weeks or several months. It's hard to say."

Arthur blew out a loud breath, stumbled to a stool, and sat. "Is there anything you can give her? Should I get her a nursemaid? What special foods should be prepared? Tell me what to do to make this easier for her. Whatever she needs, I will make sure she has it."

Gaius patted his shoulder. "Gwen is fine."

Arthur stared into the older man's kind eyes. "Is she?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

Gaius pulled a stool beside Arthur and sat. "She is fine, Arthur, and I will do everything I can to make sure she stays that way."

Arthur wanted to find confidence in those words, but his fear wouldn't let him. Only time and Guinevere's continued good health would give him the peace he needed with this.


	6. Adjusting, Fretting, and Winning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin adjusts. Arthur frets. Gwen has her way.

Part Six

The conversation with Arthur left Merlin in a state. Since his arrival in Camelot, he had waited for this opportunity to reopen the door to magic. He did not for one second believe that Arthur was ready to make that leap, but for him to request Merlin to research the Old Religion gave Merlin hope. Unlike his father, Arthur did not lead with a closed mind. Stubbornness would not be his legacy. Arrogance maybe, Merlin thought with a faint smile, but definitely not stubbornness. Oh, yes, the bonds to Uther's reign were breaking. Still.

With his new position came his very own chambers within the castle. Arthur allowed him to choose—within reason—and Merlin chose quarters that were not too far from where he currently resided with Gaius. Servants were told to make the space ready for him and Merlin stood back in awe as others bustled about for him. It became too much and he left. 

"Merlin!"

The high-pitched voice of Isotta, one of the court seamstresses, stopped many in their tracks and Merlin was no different. He froze. 

"Yes?"

"The Queen sent me to find you."

"Did she?" Merlin frowned. He'd seen Gwen earlier. She'd been surrounded by cloaks of red and looked none too pleased about it. "Where is she? Does she need me?"

"No, I am to take your measurements—"

"What?" Merlin stepped back as the woman approached him with her tape in hand. "Wait. Why?"

"The Queen told me to."

Merlin knew better than to go against Gwen, but he certainly did not want to be manhandled in a public corridor. He ushered Isotta into an empty chamber and allowed her to perform her task. Unease coursed through him as she prodded here and there. Only his mother picked him over like this and it had been ages since she had done so. When the seamstress finished, he found voice to question her.

"What is all this for?"

"For you," she said, looking at him as if he was daft. 

"But why?" He persisted. "Did she say why? I have clothes. Maybe not many, but I have them."

"You're no longer the King's manservant, correct?" 

He nodded with a shrug. Isotta's mouth pursed and her eyebrows lifted. Slowly, understanding dawned. His new position brought many new perks. Not just a new residence but also…attire. A faint smile parted his lips. It never would have occurred to him to ask. But in order to be taken seriously and seen as more than someone who had been the King's servant, fancier duds were required. 

"Do you have color preferences?" Isotta asked.

"Purple."

Upon the woman's gasp, Merlin laughed.

"But I'll take blue…or brown. Or both. I like both."

Good humor stayed with him as he strolled through the castle. Arthur hadn't stated whether or not he'd make a formal announcement given the subject matter of Merlin's role concerned magic; yet, there seemed to be a difference in how others greeted him. Perhaps it was the confident stroll or the feeling that things were about to change. Merlin couldn't be sure, but he acknowledged the confused nods and waves with a wide smile and hearty wave. By the time he reached Gaius, he felt as if he was walking on a cloud and nothing could weigh him down.

"You look pleased with yourself," Gaius commented, peering over the rim of his glasses as he looked up from a worn tome of text. "Dare I ask why?"

"You're looking at Camelot's new Liaison to Magic—"

"You're what?" Gaius dropped his book and his glasses on the tabletop. The old man stalked across the stone floor with speed that Merlin hadn't seen him possess in years. Claw-like fingers dug into Merlin shoulders as Gaius shook him. "Have you gone mad?"

"Arthur released me from my manservant duties." Merlin carefully pried himself free of the physician's hold. "He wants me to research the Old Religion. He's finally interested in magic and not merely dismissing it as evil. He's even assigned me my very own chambers not too far from here."

The explanation did little to ease the troubled expression from Gaius' face. The lines on his face became more pronounced. "When did this happen?"

"Last night…this morning." Merlin shrugged. "I didn't want to say anything until I understood what he wanted."

"Do you?" Gaius fixed him with one of his typical discerning looks. As if he was deciphering Merlin from head to toe and trying to determine if he was of sound mind.

"Of course!" Merlin fought against agitation under the older man's perusal. "Look, I know what you're thinking and I know that I have to be careful. Arthur isn't lifting the ban against magic."

"So what is this really about?"

Merlin sat and nodded for Gaius to do the same. "Gwen, maybe. Morgana, definitely."

The physician stiffened at the mention of the Queen. "What about Gwen?"

"He asked her if she remembered what happened with Morgana." Merlin looked down at the table. He had so many regrets about the day Gwen was taken. If he had been with her and the knights, he knew that he could have stopped it. For the past six months, every time she apologized to him for her actions while under Morgana's spell, he wanted to apologize to her for not stopping Morgana years ago when he should have.

"Did she?"

Merlin nodded. "Releasing her from the enchantment was only half of what Gwen needed to be whole again."

"She's better now."

"Losing Elyan hasn't been easy," Merlin commented.

"Losing a loved one never is." 

"But she has a glow about her now," Merlin said with a faint smile. "I just realized… Have you noticed?"

"Um…" Gaius abruptly stood. He turned his attention to straightening his papers and organizing the jars on his shelf.

Merlin's eyes narrowed as he watched the old man. "Gaius."

"I suppose with your new job you won't have time to help me anymore," Gaius said. "And then with you moving out, I'll probably never see you."

"You won't get rid of me that easy. What is it about Gwen?" Merlin said. He'd address the rest later. He could read Gaius well and he was onto something about Gwen.

"Whatever do you mean?" Gaius asked in a seemingly disinterested tone.

"I'm on to you." Merlin planted himself in the older man's path. "The guard's around her have doubled. Is she well or not? She's my friend and I want to know."

Gaius sighed. He raised his eyes to Merlin's and Merlin had to catch his breath. "What is it?" he whispered.

"She's with child—"

"Is that all?" Merlin all but yelled in one breath. He'd been afraid she was on her deathbed. 

"To Arthur, it's everything," Gaius stated quietly. "You mustn't say a word to anyone. Not to Gwen and certainly not to Arthur."

"But this is wonderful news. We should be celebrating—"

"It's not cause for celebration for Arthur," Gaius said. "At least not yet. Morgana is still out there and it's clear she has no loyalty to Gwen whatsoever. What do you think she'd do if she knew about an heir? Then there's Ygraine…"

"What about Arthur's mother?"

"She died in childbirth—"

"But that was due to magic. A life for a life," Merlin said. "That's why his mother died."

"Arthur doesn't know that." Gaius placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Remember?"

The number of lies Merlin had told over the years had added up, but each one were remembered. This was one he regretted having to speak, but it kept Arthur from killing his father. He knew that had Arthur slayed Uther for whatever the reason, his friend would never forgive himself. 

"Yes." He chose his words carefully before he spoke again. "Maybe it's time Arthur knew the truth."

"He would never believe you. Besides, it's done now." Gaius patted his shoulder. "Just promise me you won't say anything about Gwen."

"I won't," Merlin said. "I'll do everything I can to keep her safe."

AG*AG

Arthur stared sightlessly at the documents spread before him. Gaius' assurances that Guinevere's loss of appetite and tiredness were normal for her condition set him at ease somewhat. Yet, throughout the day his thoughts often turned to her. He hadn't been so distracted since the early days of their courtship if one could call it that. 

The doors to the throne room eased open. Leon and Gareth strode in. Their vibrant red cloaks flowed with majestic purpose. Arthur couldn't help but straighten with a sense of pride as two of his finest knights stood before him with loyalty shining brightly in their eyes. They would die for him and he would do the same for them.

"My Lord," they said with a nod.

Arthur smiled in reply. He gestured for them to sit. Once they had chosen chairs on either side of him, Arthur dove straight in.

"Leon, beginning tomorrow morning, you are in charge of training." 

Leon's eyes widened in surprise. "Thank you, Sire. I appreciate the honor."

"You have more than earned it. When Percival returns, he will be your second in command."

"Yes, Sire," Leon said. 

Arthur then turned to Gareth. The dark-haired knight came from the lower town. If Uther had still been alive, Gareth, like so many of Arthur's chosen, would never had been considered as one of Camelot's protectors. In numerous battles, the younger man had more than proven himself to be a mighty warrior. His ties to Camelot went back several generations and his loyalty could never be questioned.

"Gareth, I need you to recruit more men, but only the best."

Gareth, never one for many words, nodded his acceptance. 

"Not just within Camelot," Arthur continued, "but also the outlying farms and villages. Even as far as Ealdor. I suggest you choose first from those who have no family obligations."

Gareth nodded. "Of course, Sire."

Arthur soon ended the meeting. He imagined the men were proud of their new assignments. Under other circumstances, he would not have thought twice to delegate his favorite duties to his knights. He had been in charge of training for as long as he could remember. It was in his blood. And recruiting… He could spot a worthy knight a mile away. But with Guinevere with child, delegating would have to suffice. Assigning a battalion of knights to guard her would never ease his mind. Not like being with her himself would. And he needed to be with her as much as possible.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" 

The words tumbled out as Merlin stumbled into the room. Arthur shook his head. A retort lay ready on the tip of his tongue, but in all honesty, he wasn't in the mood for it. 

"Sit, Merlin."

The other man scrambled into a chair. He fussed a bit with his new dark brown tunic and the embroidery on the cuffs. Arthur shook his head again. Apparently, a couple of days into his new role and Merlin was adjusting.

"How is the research coming?" Arthur asked.

"It's coming…"

Arthur frowned. "Need I remind you that Morgana's whereabouts are unknown. Gwaine and Percival are weeks overdue. Morgana hasn't been this quiet since Sarnum imprisoned her and since no one has claimed such an accomplishment, I cannot hope for the best."

"The best?"

"That she is no longer a threat," Arthur said through gritted teeth. 

"We will find her."

"We have no choice." Arthur sighed. "Perhaps we can meet with the Druids."

"I'll leave at first light."

"You're not listening," Arthur said. "That's something a liaison should be able to do. I said 'we,' Merlin. We. We're going together."

"They may not speak freely with you there."

"That's a risk we'll have to take," Arthur said. 

AG*AG

A walk on the grounds did much to boost Gwen's appetite if not her mood. It seemed no matter where she turned crimson red flowed in her line of vision. Knights haunted her every step worse than any shadow lurking about. Coupled with Arthur hovering over her whenever his duties to Camelot did not require his attention, she was on the verge of losing her temper. 

At the threshold to the royal chambers, Gwen turned to her remaining two protectors with a fixed smile on her face. The two other knights who had accompanied them on the grounds had left as soon as they rounded the corridor. Now, as for Sirs Lamorak and Safir…

"You've both seen me safely to my chambers," she said.

The men nodded. 

"I've sure you've been told not to leave me unattended."

The men responded with another nod.

Gwen wondered if Arthur had forbidden them to speak, but she cast the thought aside as she continued. "Now, that I am safely home again one of you may be dismissed. You can decide between yourselves."

They shook their heads.

She frowned. Irritation crept along her skin like an itch that refused to be relieved. Jaw set, she was all ready to make her order plain and clear when the flash of a familiar white tunic came into her line of vision. Arthur took her hand and had her inside with the door closed before she could voice protest.

"Arth—"

The rest of his name was consumed by his kiss. His lips were warm and sweet on hers. Gwen found herself responding before her thoughts took hold to pull her away. Disappointment dulled the brightness in his blue eyes. A delectable pout settled on his full lips. She refused to succumb to usual tactics.

"They're too many!" 

He pulled her back into his arms. "Too many what?"

"Knights guarding me," she said. "I can barely breathe. Surely you need them for something more important."

"There's nothing more important than you." 

"But it's so restrictive."

"So." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"You're not taking this seriously."

"I take you very seriously, my love." He settled on a chair and rested her comfortably on his lap. To Gwen's surprise, he pressed his hand against her still flat abdomen. "Gwaine and Percival are still out there, searching for Morgana. It's been months since her last move and it's not like her to be so silent. I don't trust it. She's come for you before. I cannot assume that she won't do that again."

"So the guards are staying," she stated and asked at the same time.

He nodded once. "Without a doubt."

She caressed the hand that still held her. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that his fears about childbirth had abated, but this gentle caress was a beautiful sign of his becoming more receptive to their growing family. 

"What are you thinking?" he asking. His other hand stroked her back in sweeping circles. "You have this…smile on your face. I hope I put it there."

"You did." She kissed his cheek. 

He laughed. "Is it a secret?"

"What?" 

"Your thoughts."

"No," she said. "I was thinking about…" She paused to firmly place her hand on his. "Should we make an announcement?"

He stiffened. "Do you want to?"

"I would rather not," she answered honestly. 

A sigh swept through her as his entire body relaxed. "Because of Morgana?"

"She's always hated that you chose me as your queen. If she knew I carried your heir, I fear what she'd do."

"I will find her," Arthur said. "I promise you that."

"As much as I want her found, I want you safe. I cannot bear to lose you," Gwen said. "My father and my brother are both gone. You and this child I carry are the only family I have left. If you promise me anything, Arthur, you must promise that in all things you will take care and do what you must to always come back to me."

"Always."

Her heartfelt plea had produced tears. Arthur brushed them aside without a word. A few kisses on her cheek and a long lingering one on her lips offered further reassurance. 

Dinner would come soon, but neither made move to change their arrangement with Gwen on Arthur's lap and he with his arms wrapped tightly around her. They enjoyed these moments. The responsibility of Camelot weighed heavily on both of their shoulders but whenever they could spend quiet moments together like this, it was treasured beyond measure.

"Merlin likes his new clothes," Arthur said with laughter in his voice. "I suppose I have you to blame for that."

"In his new position, he couldn't wear his manservant attire. Remember?"

Arthur smiled. 

The transition from servant to royalty had not been easy for Gwen. Arthur had lavished many gifts on her and each one had left her more unnerved than the one before. Finally, he drew her aside and questioned her until she unloaded all her remaining doubts and insecurities. With his soothing manner, gentle voice, and sweet kisses, he explained that as much as he loved her no matter what she wore as the queen, she was assuming a role that went beyond his wife. As such, she required attire to correspond. People, nobility and commoners alike, responded to imagery and given her previous station as a servant, opposition would be plenty. None would be so bold as to voice it. However, Arthur assured Gwen that facing their supporters and detractors in costume, for lack of a better word, would be akin to him facing his opponents in armor. In time, it became a private joke between them, but Gwen would never forget Arthur's thoughtfulness when her early fears took hold. 

"How is his research coming?" 

"It isn't," Arthur said. "Not as well as I'd like."

"Merlin will find what you need. He knows how important this is."

"I'm not upset with him."

She caressed his jaw. "Really?"

"Well…" A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as her thumb teased his bottom lip. "Not too much. He and I are leaving to meet with the Druids at first light."

She moved off his lap. 

"Where are you going?"

"To put a rush on dinner. Finally there's a use for one of my many guards." 

She kissed his forehead. Then she gave her order to Sir Lamorak. Once back in the room, she headed to their wardrobe. All the while, she could sense Arthur's steady gaze following her every move. 

"What are you doing?"

"You're full of questions tonight."

"If you weren't such a mystery…"

She felt his heat before he touched her shoulders. 

"Those are your riding clothes," he said, commenting on the bundle in her arms. "No, Guinevere. You cannot come with us."

"Yes, Arthur, I am."

Arms folded across his strong chest, he frowned in exasperation. "Have you forgotten that I am King?" 

She tossed her clothes on the bed, took two steps to stand flush against him, and curled her arms around his waist. "Are you aware that I am your Queen?"

"That is something I will never forget."

"As your Queen, I want to take this journey with you. The time will come when I will not be able to travel so easily." As his arms held her close, she added, "Please, do not deny me this."

"When you look at me like that, you make it impossible for me to deny you anything." 

He buried his face against the curve of her neck and hugged her close. Gwen returned his embrace with equal fervor. She couldn't be sure whose body trembled more…hers or Arthur's. 

A short knock on the door signaled the arrival of dinner. They slowly parted. 

"After dinner, we'll speak with Gaius to make sure that riding will bring no harm to you." 

Gwen smiled at the retreating back of her over protective husband. She would have him no other way.

"Of course, Arthur."


	7. Tent Walls Aren't Made of Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pendragons and Merlin have a consultation with the Druids.

Part Seven

Pink, orange, and yellow rays of light filtered through the rich foliage to guide the party of seven through the forest. A friendly banter floated between the knights and Merlin, but Arthur's jaw remained clamp to it. Beside him, Guinevere also rode in silence. He noticed a couple of furtive glances cast in his direction. In response, he clenched the reins tighter and straightened his back. All the while, Gaius' words of warning about her presence on this trip played in his mind like a court jester who refused to shut up.

"Beautiful morning," she said softly. "Isn't it, Arthur?"

"The sun is shining."

He didn't want to be short with her, but her slight gasp revealed that his sour mood refused to stay tethered within. A glance in her direction gave him only her lovely profile and the outline of her set jaw. The thought to make amends came to mind. Yet, the truth was he wasn't sorry. While he preferred to keep watch of her himself, this trip, as innocent as her journey to visit her father's grave, presented perils. With Morgana's whereabouts unknown coupled with Guinevere's condition, Arthur was of no mind to apologize for being the stubborn man she'd accused him of.

"Gaius said that you should take care with the horseback riding," he countered with true tenderness. 

"And I am," she said. Her gaze persisted to decipher the path ahead instead of meeting his. The tightness around her mouth failed to soften. 

Arthur could have kicked himself for bringing her unhappiness. But his worries persisted. Her appetite wavered, depending on the food. Apples, eggs, and tomatoes committed the worst offenses. She couldn't stand the sight or smell of them. He couldn't help but wonder if more items would add to the list. With a child growing inside her, Guinevere's strength would waver without proper nourishment then childbirth would be the least of his fears. He gasped for air.

"Stop it," she said under her breath.

"What? The journey?" he asked. The words tumbled out in a rush. "Will you go back?"

"No." Her bright brown eyes flashed with fire. "You agreed to this. I will not turn back."

"Guinevere." He barely kept his voice low enough from reaching the others.

"Arthur." Her tone was on par with his.

A warrior, he thought. He'd fallen hopelessly in love with a warrior. She would not back down and nothing he said would send her back. His frustration be damned, she was coming with whether he liked it or not. Gods, this should infuriate him to no end, but it only made him love her more. 

"You mustn't fret so."

He frowned. "I do not fret." Each word came out more pronounced than the one before.

This earned him a smile and a giggle. Although a fierce warrior would always lurk underneath her great beauty, he so enjoyed the softness of her laugh and smile. All at once, his muscles relaxed. His grip on the reins loosened and his mouth mimicked hers without his permission. 

"You do, and I know it is so." She leaned toward him and he mirrored her actions to catch her words. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you, my lady."

"The pleasure is mine, my lord," she said. "Within reason."

He laughed at the quick comeback. Of course, as long as he controlled his overwhelming need to keep her safe all would be well. His Guinevere was not a woman who craved to be coddled. However there were times when he indulged the need to do so and it was met without complaint. Yet overall, she was as involved with keeping Camelot safe and whole as he, although at times, her role was different. As his Queen, she was equally as important. 

As the laughter faded, he regarded the slight tension that had come over her. His first inclination was to halt the trip, but she had promised to tell him of any discomfort. No, the lines of tension around her mouth were not due to pain. Arthur was sure of it. Part of him considered allowing her silence to work through her unease, but after months of having her closed off to him, that idea didn't set well.

"Guinevere?"

"Just thinking…" she said with a shrug, instantly reading him. 

"About?"

She regarded him with a wan smile. "Morgana."

"She's never far from any of our thoughts, is she?"

His wife shook her head. A beam of light struck her face and he could have sworn he saw wetness glistening in the corners of her eyes. She blinked and it disappeared. A few moments passed, and he wasn't sure if his eyes had deceived him.

"What about her?" he prodded gently. He hesitated before adding, "Is it about the Dark Tower?"

She shrugged. Lady Fair, her majestic white stallion, rocked her slightly to and fro. The horses' gallop created a soft beat that paled in comparison to the thudding of Arthur's heart. What memories of Morgana had conjured for Guinevere? Would they send her into a sea of sadness again?

"Guine—"

"Her kindness…" Guinevere stared at him with an earnest expression. "Do you remember how kind she was?"

Her countenance mesmerized him. This was no idle question. It mattered deeply to her so it meant something to him as well. While his first inclination had been to make an offhand remark about the young Morgana and how complicated and confusing their relationship had been even though it also had been warm and caring, staring into his wife's dark eyes, he found he could not. He simply nodded and said, "I do."

"My first days at the castle…I was on pins and needles. I barely spoke."

"I remember."

She frowned. "You do not."

"I do so. I remember everything about you."

"You barely noticed me."

He grinned. "That's what I wanted you to think. You were like a bird. You would have flown away if I blew too hard."

"Oh, Arthur!" Heat colored her cheeks a beautiful, warm pink. She shook her head at him. "You were too full of swordplay and slaying to notice the likes of me."

"You wore a pale green tunic over a white blouse. The tunic had flowers sewn along the bottom," he said, eyes narrowing at the memory. "You had flowers in your hair. A stray curl would fall into your eyes and you'd blow it away."

"Gawker," she said, a little breathless. 

"Indeed."

Their gazes locked. Years of loving her gave him the ability to read her without the need for many words. He had surprised her. Of that he was sure. But he had touched her, too. Guinevere's arrival in his life had been momentous. There was no way he could forget.

"Well, while you said nothing," she said, teasing him with her smile, "Morgana…" At this, her smile faltered. "Morgana was quite forthcoming with assurances. She was very welcoming. My mother had just died and we needed the money. I didn't mind being a servant, but Morgana never made me feel as though I was one."

"I remember hearing you two giggling well into the night."

Guinevere nodded. "It felt like we were best friends at times."

Arthur reached over and took her hand. Gloves prevented their flesh from making contacting, but somehow, the warmth of her slender hand managed to filter through the layers of leather. He squeezed her hand before slowly releasing her.

"She was our friend then," he said. 

The loss of Morgana cut deeply. He rarely allowed himself a moment to acknowledge it. True, Uther's failure to claim her as his own flesh and blood had to hurt, but Arthur could never understand how she could dismiss the man's love for her. Uther had been a hard man, but for Morgana, there was a softness, an indulgence, that Arthur never could lay claim to. Morgana saw a side of Uther that no one ever witnessed, despite his obsessive need for obedience. Her turning on him wounded Uther far greater than any injury on a battlefield could have done.

"I'm thinking about myself," Guinevere said. "Of course the past hurts you, too."

"There is no harm in your thoughts, my love. I want you to share them with me. Morgana's transformation from friend to foe happened years ago, but it doesn't make it any less troubling."

"Especially now." She placed her hand on her abdomen with a gesture so slight that if he hadn't been watching, he would have missed it.

"Yes," he agreed.

"I can't believe that magic would turn her so. Perhaps, the Druids can…"

"Can what?" he prompted.

"Offer an explanation," she said. "I suppose that's too simple. The Morgana I loved fed the poor, fought alongside me in Ealdor, and didn't want to leave me behind with Hengist's men. She bears no resemblance to the woman who held me in that tower and would stop at nothing to hurt us now." 

Words failed Arthur. If they hadn't been astride their horses with knights all around, he would have wrapped his arms around her and held her close. 

"Guinevere, I…I…"

"I know, Arthur." She nodded once. "I know."

AG*AG

Since Gaius' confession of Arthur and Gwen's secret Merlin discovered himself surprisingly fascinated by them. In Ealdor, his mother often served as midwife to many couples, young and not so much, with the addition to their families. While he had never worked as her apprentice, he would manage to sneak to get a peek at the squalling, red, wrinkly babes. The looks of wonder on the parents faces never failed to capture his attention as much as the noise from one so small. Unfortunately, there had been a few losses at childbirth, but in the end, there were few. 

Upon his arrival to Camelot, he had forgotten about that time. Protecting Arthur and guarding his secret had taken up a good deal of his life. Arthur's rule had brought a peaceful time to Camelot and the surrounding kingdoms. It's strange, but the lack of an heir had never crossed Merlin's mind until now.

Should he delve too far into this, he wondered. Affection between his two best friends had never been lacking. Unlike most royals, the question of having separate chambers had never been spoken. Unease settled in his gut like congealed porridge. Keeping watch of Arthur's destiny did not include this. It was only a matter of time before a child was created from their union. That was all.

"How do you fare?" 

A flash of red and a sharp nudge startled Merlin from his contemplation. He faced Tor, one of Gwen's newly discharged knights, with what he hoped was a playful grin. 

"Well, and yourself?"

"Well, you say?" Tor scoffed. "You looked green around the edges. Another late one at the tavern, eh?"

Gaheris, riding alongside Tor, laughed. As was their way, neither Lamorak nor Safir responded with sound. Merlin noticed a smirk on Safir's face. Lamorak's eyes crinkled on the corners. The dollop heads! As if he ever had time to spend in taverns!

"What's that about a tavern, Merlin?" Arthur asked from the front. Gwen's adjoining giggle added to everyone's entertainment except for Merlin's.

"Well?" Gaheris asked. "Aw, Merlin, it's only a bit of fun. Where's your good spirit?"

"Perhaps, he left it at the tavern," Safir stated. 

Silence settled in so quickly that one could have heard a pin drop on the forest floor. Merlin blinked. Had Sir Safir of the village of Landok truly joined in with a joke? Forget that it was at Merlin's expense. Safir had spoken. No doubt, they were closer to the Druids than they realized for only magic could have been the source of this miraculous event.

Then just as suddenly as everyone became quiet, their tongues loosened with laughter. It was like a spell had broken, easing the tension that had settled over all of them at first light. Safir smiled slowly at first, and he joined in. Lamorak, too. 

"Emyrs."

With the humor of his friends and allies surrounding him, Merlin felt the whisper of his name like a vibration along his skin. Goosebumps rose along his exposed forearms and neck.

The conversation continued as their horses' trot sent them deeper into the Wolfsen woods. Magic rattled his senses. He looked around at his chatting friends and was amazed that they did not feel it, too. That always staggered him. How no one else felt it. 

"Emrys."

He gripped the reins on his horse. Old Blue neighed in response. A gentle caress calmed the faithful steed and Merlin reminded himself to be normal, whatever that was.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, obviously alerted by the horse. But then his eyes narrowed on Merlin. "Let me guess. A feeling?"

Merlin shrugged. "We're getting closer to their camp."

The four knights all stiffened as if on silent orders from their king. Their hands automatically grabbed hold of the hilts of their swords. 

"No need for that," Arthur advised. "We're at peace, remember?"

Old habits die hard, Merlin thought, watching the knights will themselves to relax. The fear and hatred of magic and sorcery ran deep. Even though the Druids were a peaceful people and harmed none, the first response was to take hold of a weapon. Merlin sighed. 

Smoke from the camp wafted ahead. The faint vibrations prickled along Merlin's flesh like jolts of lightning. He'd never felt it so strongly before. Not even in Morgana's presence or around Mordred. He supposed the number of Druids in the camp increased the sensation. Whatever the cause, Merlin sensed no ill will from them. As their calls to him increased, he sent back a reply.

"We come in peace."

"Why so many of you?"

"The king is here. Queen Guinevere is with us."

"Ah…the Queen."

After that, the voices silenced. Merlin strained to keep his face impassive. The acknowledgement of Gwen unnerved him. Everyone in the kingdom knew of her. The rise from servant to nobility…the union of love instead of strategy had spread like wildfire. So, of course, she was known to all, but there was something in how her name was said and especially how the conversation ended abruptly. What did it all mean?

Before the puzzle pieces could fit into place, the camp came into view. The Druids, having already sensed their presence, seemed ready in anticipation. A man and a woman stood at the camp's edge, watching as Merlin and the others fastened their horses. Many attempted to carry on as if nothing untoward was taking place, but Merlin recognized the pretense. Three years of peace was still not long enough to clear their minds of Uther's decades of tyranny.

Arthur and Gwen approached the couple. Merlin stood close by with the knights at a comfortable distance. 

"To what do we owe this honor?"

Arthur made the traditional pleasantries, formally introduced the Queen, and then asked for Iseldir.

"He's made camp closer to the kingdom of Caerleon."

"Oh," Arthur said, quietly.

"I'm his son, Cynwrig and this is Elva," he said, indicating the auburn-haired woman beside him. "Whatever you wish to ask of him, you may ask of us."

"You sound certain of that."

"Your reign has not been like your father's. The peace you promised between us has been honored," Cynwrig said. "Come. You and your lovely Queen can rest your legs by my fire. Your men can break bread with the men just returned from a hunt. Elva can tend to your manservant."

"He isn't my manservant anymore, but um… Yes, that will be fine."

The separation went smoothly. With Arthur and Gwen in plain sight, the knights left to assist with preparing the night's supper. Merlin could not help but admire Cynwrig's ability to assure that Elva and he engage in private as he followed Elva inside a nearby tent.

"How is Iseldir?" 

"He is well," she said. "And you?"

Merlin shrugged. "I should ask you. You're more aware of my destiny than I am."

"That gift is more Cynwrig's than it is mine."

"So, why are we here and he is over there with Arthur and Gwen?" he asked.

"Appearances. It's better to remain in the King's good will."

Merlin smiled. 

"Also…" 

Her face became drawn with seriousness. She stepped close. Her hand rested on his forearm. Another ripple coursed through him. Magic. She shivered and he wondered if she had ever felt anything so strong before. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. 

"What?" he asked. He searched her eyes, in hopes of finding the answer before she gave words to whatever troubled her.

"Your Queen is with child."

Merlin bit his lip. His promise to Gaius made him unable to either confirm or deny her statement. Although he knew he wouldn't have to say a word.

"I won't say anything. While I don't have Cynwrig or his father's gift for prophecy, I sense things… Take care with your Queen."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. "Why? What's wrong?" 

"I cannot say that something is wrong. Just take care. She has not been well."

Merlin nodded. "She recently lost her brother."

"She had a dark time," Elva said, also nodding. "She's better now, but there's… All is still not quite well."

"What?" Merlin grabbed her upper arms. "You must tell me what it is."

"Emyrs, please!" she cried in a harsh whisper. When he released her, she rubbed her arms. "If I knew, I would."

"Cynwrig—"

"It is black to him. He cannot see that future. I asked him when we felt you coming," she said. "He tried, but he couldn't… It's like a dark veil had blinded him."

"What did you say?"

"A dark veil." Elva shook her head. "That's what he said. His exact words. He feels that his vision was blinded purposely." 

Morgana.

Elva nodded. Merlin hadn't said her name aloud, but the Druid woman knew just as he did. 

"She's a High Priestess now. Very powerful."

Merlin nodded. Yes, Morgana was powerful, but so was he. 

AG*AG

Gwen had insisted on a simple camp for the night, but somehow a tent still managed to be erected. Arthur smiled at her and waved as she shook her head. A short distance away, Merlin watered the horses and she joined him. 

After leaving the Druids, they had all been quiet. Merlin even more so. She wondered what Elva could have said to him that made her dear friend so pensive. Maybe more insight into his new position had given him reason to ponder in silence. Since she harbored questions of her own, she hoped he had obtained answers. 

"All done?" 

He nodded. "Just finishing up."

Gwen waited as he completed his task. So quiet and confident, he handled the horses and put things away. She remembered their first official meeting at the stocks. Bits of fruit and vegetables clung to his hair. Juices rolled down his sharp, pronounced cheekbones. Yet, even as the township hurled food at him, he managed a ready smile at her approach. His lack of fear at Arthur's size and bullying had won her admiration from afar, but it was his offer of hand and smile amid the worst of circumstances that had won her friendship.

"You're staring," he said, a faint glow of red dusting his cheeks as he faced her. "What have I done?"

"Nothing specific. Just remembering. We've come quite a distance, haven't we?"

He nodded and she knew he understood that her words covered more than forest or miles. 

"I have a log." He pointed. "It isn't cushioned."

"I've sat on worse." She sat and left enough room for him to join her. "Have you settled in?"

"In my new chambers?" he asked.

She nodded. "I meant to stop by…"

He shrugged off her words. "Me too. I'm adjusting. I miss Gaius, but I like having my own place. Thank you for the clothes."

She smiled. 

"What is it, Gwen?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Only to a friend," he said. "Are you concerned about the Druids? They really are peaceful. They're nothing like Morgana. Their magic is different. She uses hers to hurt and control. That is not their way."

"I know. Cynwrig reminded Arthur of that," she said quietly. "While they abhor Morgana's methods and actions, they will not take our side against her. Nor hers against us."

"We'll find another way."

She wrapped her arms around her middle. "We must. Merlin, I… I have a request for you and it goes outside of your new capacity."

"You know you can ask anything of me."

Gwen tried to choose her words carefully. This had been on her mind for weeks now. Since coming out of her self-inflicted cave of guilt and melancholy, she could not stop thinking about how she was initially brought through Morgana's dark hold of treachery. 

"Gwen?"

"That sorceress…the Dolma?"

Merlin picked up a stick. His gaze, which had been so trained on her, became drawn to the patterns scratched in the dirt. She wondered if talk of magic made him more rattled than she or Arthur realized. 

"Never mind."

"No, what is your question?" he asked. His drawing ceased, but he eyes remained fixed on the ground. 

"I would like to thank her properly. Again. Perhaps another dress or material. If I could reach her myself…"

He looked at her then. A faint smile on his face put her at ease again. "No, my Lady, I can do that for you. It would be my pleasure."

Later, safe and secure inside the tent with Arthur's arm wrapped solidly around her, Gwen could not put the conversation with the Druid leader out of her mind nor the way Elva watched her every move. While she did not fear them as Merlin had suggested, they were a curiosity. How did magic work? How did words make things happen? What cause some people to have it and others to not? Why were these people, these strangers, so kind to them and Morgana, a woman she had known for years, everything but? 

"Guinevere." The familiar murmur rumbled against her ear. "Sleep."

"I will…"

"You're thinking," Arthur whispered. "I can hear you."

A low giggled escaped as she rolled onto her side to face him. 

"Tell me." He rolled to face her. His hand settled at her hip, stroking gently but not too suggestively. "What troubles you?"

"At least we know they won't side against us," she said. "They won't join Morgana."

"I didn't think they would," he replied, "but it is good to have them state it. Were you worried?"

"Not exactly…"

"But you are worried," he said.

"We will need allies with magic. You and your forces are strong, but Morgana does not fight fair."

Arthur sighed. "She never did." He caressed her face. "You shouldn't worry about this. I'll take care of it."

"I know you will. I trust you." She kissed him. "With all my heart, I do."

"But…" he said, a trace of humor in his voice. "Tell me, wife. I'm listening to your counsel. It has always been sound. Advise me, beautiful wise one."

Her fingers traced the lines of his face. Felt the fullness of his lips and the curve of his smile. Nightfall brought darkness, but it could not blind her to the light of his love or his trust in her.

"They raised a valid point regarding the ban on magic," she said. "If we want true help against Morgana, you will have to seriously consider lifting it."

"That is the purpose of Merlin's new role. Investigating the Old Religion will provide me with insight as to whether or not the ban can be repealed."

"Perhaps, he should go back to the beginning of the ban and find out Uther's true reason for abolishing magic in the first place. Maybe he's looking in the wrong place. What if the answers we seek lie within Uther's change of heart?"

"A warrior who wields wisdom and slays me with her beauty," he said, closing the gap between them.

"Arthur, whatever are you talking about?" A squeal escaped when he kissed her neck.

"You, my love. All things that make you, my Guinevere." His kissed moved up to her ear. His insistent nibbling made her whimper. "Now, be very quiet. The tent walls aren't made of stone."


	8. Returns, Plans, and Flurries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strategies are key and plans abound. Arthur has a change of heart.

Part Eight

The return home couldn't happen fast enough for Merlin. The campfire talk with Gwen brought back memories of his early days in Camelot. Outside of Gaius, she had been his first true friend. Her warm smile and frequent blushes were so endearing that he was drawn to her instantly and the connection was reciprocated. Kilgharrah in his many talks on destiny and fate had never spoken of how Merlin's would be intertwined with Gwen's, but it seemed that despite the Great Dragon's foreknowledge of everything else, he and his first friend shared a destiny as linked as the one he shared with her husband.

And so, it was Gwen that kept him from a restful sleep and made the journey home feel all too slow. Her wish to gift the Dolma with another dress wasn't the source of his discomfort. Although at the mention of his disguise, he wanted nothing more than to tell her it was he that pulled her from Morgana's clutches. Him, Merlin, her friend. Not some bizarre sorceress with a penchant for clothing. Not a woman that Arthur found vaguely familiar, but their friend, the one they'd known for years. But as always, he had to remain quiet. 

Another lie by omission and gods, how the lies were building. 

Merlin hated himself for it, but this time, self-recriminations did not keep him awake at night. No, this time, worry for Gwen and his inability to understand Elva's words of warning. There had to be more to it. Something he could do to stop whatever was coming.

At the gates, he nudged Old Blue into a faster trot, leaving the others to come at their own pace. Once inside, he quickly dismounted and ran inside the castle in search of Gaius. To his relief, his old friend and mentor was tinkering away inside his chambers. 

Spectacles rested low just on the tip of the old man's nose. Steady hands poured a thick, clear liquid into a small tube that contained something thin and murky. Gaius' mouth drew into a firm line as he watched his concoction.

Merlin cleared his throat to announce his presence. He didn't want to startle him.

"I saw you come in." Gaius beckoned him to come closer. "Close the door. The smell can be unsettling. I don't wish to offend anyone."

Merlin pulled the door to and lingered near it. "Unsettling?"

"Rank, actually. Like a rotten egg."

"Why are you mixing sulfur?"

"It isn't sulfur exactly," Gaius said. He looked at Merlin. A mischievous smile played at his mouth. "You don't have to stand so far away. The smell doesn't happen every time."

"Why not?" Merlin took a few tentative steps closer. He trusted Gaius, but he didn't trust the concoction. Whatever it was.

"Not sure, yet. That's why I keep testing it." Gaius sniffed. "So far so good. Usually it would have run me out of here by now. Come have some tea. It's safe."

Merlin moved with fondness around his old dwellings. The space was a good size, but hardly fit for two grown men. Now that he had his own chambers, it was hard to believe that he and the physician had managed to reside together for so long without causing bodily harm to the other. 

As he sat at his seat at the table and Gaius claimed his, mugs of tea steaming between them, the old man gave him the onceover. 

"What happened with the Druids?"

"They won't help us fight Morgana."

Gaius nodded. "I didn't think they would. Not their way."

"They won't join her either."

He nodded again and took a long sip. "You didn't run in here looking affright to tell me that."

"A woman, Elva…she knows that Gwen is with child—"

"Merlin!"

"I didn't tell her." He was quick to defend himself. "I promised I wouldn't and I haven't. She spoke to me about it. She's concerned. Gaius, I know as a physician there are things you're not supposed to share…but you have to tell me—is Gwen not well?"

"Have you spoken with Arthur?"

Merlin fell back against his chair as if he'd been struck. The question hurt. Of course, over the years he'd given Gaius cause to question him, but about this? 

He shook his head. "No. Never."

"I told you he's worried because of his mother."

"I know." Merlin sighed. Another lie and more guilt that weighed him down. He clutched the mug and drew it close. "I understand that."

"Gwen is fine," the old man said with quiet conviction. "Truly. The midwife will begin her visits in the coming weeks, but I have done this before. If Gwen was not well, I would say so."

"But Elva…" 

"What did she say? Exactly."

Merlin told Gaius everything that he and the Druid had discussed. When he ended with his suspicions about Morgana, the old man's eyes narrowed. 

"There now, that's the true source of concern. Morgana has never wanted another queen on the throne and especially not Gwen," Gaius said. 

"Do you think she knows about the baby?"

"She had the gift of prophecy. It's possible."

Merlin stood from the table. "I must find her."

"You'll leave now?" Gaius rose, too. "This is the worst time to leave them unprotected."

"But Morgana—"

"Her attacks are better when you're separated from them," Gaius reminded him. "I fear leaving them now would only aid Morgana in whatever her next plan of attack may be."

Merlin didn't respond. The advice was not without merit. Yet, he couldn't shake the need to do something. Anything to help. 

A few weeks passed with nothing amiss. Merlin knew better than to let his guard down completely, but as the pressures of his new position increased, the conversation with Elva loss precedence. Besides, Gwen was remarkably well. Better than any of the women his mother had ever cared for in Ealdor and Arthur doted on her like a lovesick puppy. And if finding answers in the Old Religion that would increase the likelihood of Arthur lifting the ban, then Merlin had to work hard to present his case.

"Merlin!" 

Late to Council, Merlin paused with a hint of annoyance dogging him to face his greeter. His displeasure grew when he saw that it was Mordred.

"I can't. I'm busy."

"Just a moment," the knight said, blocking his path. "Just one."

"Fine," Merlin bit out. "Make it quick. I'm already late."

"For Council?" Mordred asked. His hand flexed against the hilt of his sword. Not in a defensive gesture. It just rested there, comfortably. "Before you were the one refilling everyone's cups, now you have a seat at the table."

"So you've said your piece." Merlin didn't try to contain his contempt. He moved to walk around the other man.

"No, Merlin, wait. That's not what I meant. You got it wrong."

"What, then?"

"Your position," Mordred said, moving in close so that his low voice could not be heard by others, "is…amazing. Can't it change things, now?"

"What things?"

"Between you and me," Mordred answered. "I know you don't trust me and I've done nothing to deserve it. We can help each other now. If Arthur lifts the ban on magic, you know what that means for us. We are not enemies, Merlin. At least, I don't feel as if we are."

As the words were spoken, the image shown to him in a pool of water came to Merlin so clearly that he even smelled the acrid scent of blood as it flowed like a river on the battlefield. There Mordred stood over Arthur's slain body. A look of victory and disdain darkened the boy's face and aged him. As Arthur drew his last breath, Mordred's mouth broke into a wide grin.

Merlin blinked and the memory of the vision faded. His hands tightened around the parchments in his grip as he tried to catch his breath.

Mordred stared at him. "What is it? What I ask cannot be so difficult?"

"No…I…um…" Merlin coughed and gulped for air. He worked to quickly compose himself. "I'm late. We'll talk later."

"Really?" the young knight responded with disbelief, unconvinced.

Merlin nodded. "I must go."

AG*AG

A clattering of noises sounded outside the conference doors. Since Merlin had already arrived in a flurry of stumbles and apologies, Arthur didn't know what to expect. He was just glad that Gwen had decided to listen and was resting in their chambers instead of there where he was certain hell was about to unleash.

Five men pushed through with his knights' permission and stood center. They heaved for a moment, but they never wavered. 

Dirt was the first thing Arthur noticed and then the distinct odor of unwashed flesh. 

He raised a hand to his hand and mouth as did the rest of the Council. Sentencing the motley crew to the stocks was on the tip of his tongue when the rangiest of the bunch stepped forward.

"On my word, Sire, we had no time to wash."

The sincere brown eyes were earnest and all too familiar.

"Gwaine?" Arthur pushed back from his chair just as the disheveled man stepped forward. "Gwaine, is that you?"

"It's me, Arthur." 

After the long wait of not knowing whether or not one of his most trusted knights was alive or dead, Arthur could care less about propriety. He clasped the man in a warm hug.

"It's good to have you home."

"It's good to be home," Gwaine said, his voice raw with emotion. After everyone expressed their happiness at seeing him and his remaining men alive and well, Gwaine said, "We saw no sign of Morgana, but the Saxons are gathering up again."

"Could they be building forces for her?" Arthur asked.

"Could be."

"They pushed up east. That's where I lost the lot of my men. On the way back, we came across groups of wanderers."

"Wanderers? From where?" Arthur frowned. Drifters were never a good sign. Either they were running from something or they were running to cause something. He didn't want any problems headed toward Camelot.

"Sarrum's territory they said," Gwaine replied. "Percival should know more than me. He would have had to come across near the border."

"Percival has yet to return," Arthur said. He rubbed his temple. An ache was starting to form. "Since Sarrum's death, there's been unrest. He had no heir to replace him."

"They're fighting for power," Merlin said. "That's why the people are running."

"It may not be wise to get involved," Lord Stanfield advised. He was one of the oldest Council members and one of the most cautious.

"He may be right, Sire, but with the lands unclaimed, it may be unwise to leave them open for others," Gaius countered. 

"So we have Sarrum's kingdom on the west and the Saxons on the east." Arthur looked around at the stoic faces staring back at him. They expected answers. As their sovereign, he should know the right action to take. Protecting Camelot and anticipating Morgana's next move were essential to being a good king, but the thought of being away from Guinevere worried him.

"You can't be at two places at once," Merlin said.

"I know that," Arthur quipped. "Are you volunteering to lead a charge?"

Merlin chuckled. "Not me."

"I'll go west in search of Percival," Gwaine volunteered.

Arthur shook his head. "No, you won't. You'll have a bath," at that, everyone snickered, "a good night's sleep, and some time at the tavern. After that, we'll see."

"Yes, Sire."

"May I suggest, Mordred?" 

Arthur turned to look at Merlin. The knight was rather young. Was he ready for such a serious adventure? "I'm not sure about that. Perhaps, Leon…"

"We need Leon to continue training the knights. He's the best, next to my Lord, of course."

Arthur resisted rolling his eyes as Merlin delivered the last part with a faint snicker. 

"Mordred is anxious to prove himself," Merlin added. 

The meeting ended soon after and everyone dispersed. Arthur instructed one of the knights to send Mordred in. As Merlin had so aptly described, the young knight's demeanor was fraught with eagerness. Although he kept his jaw firm and his bearing stern, excitement burned in his eyes. Truth be told, there was always a quirk of something brewing in Mordred's eyes that Arthur could never put his finger on. 

So be it, Camelot needed them focused and Percival and his men needed them, too.

"Sire," Mordred stated.

Arthur returned the greeting with a quick nod and a faint smile. "I have an assignment for you. You're aware that Gwaine has returned."

"Yes, my Lord. It's good to have him home."

"Indeed it is," Arthur stated. "He brings word that the Saxons on the east are at unease and Sarrum's kingdom on the west is restless without a proper leader."

"Camelot's caught in between."

"That's a concern," Arthur said, "but not the only one. Percival is still missing. Gwaine has volunteered to lead a party, but I feel you're more than ready for this task."

Mordred regarded him with a look of implacable determination. "I am, Sire. I won't return without him."

AG*AG

Swatches of fabric, scrolls of death warrants, and heavy tomes warred for space on the tabletop. Earlier while Arthur attended Council, Gwen had divided her time between napping, deciding on the décor for the baby's adjoining chambers, and reviewing Uther's old records. Now that night had fallen, she should be ready for sleep but her mind continued to race ahead to the next action. There was so much to do and she wanted to do it all.

Dinner had been a quiet affair. Arthur's concerns about Camelot being caught between the Saxons and Sarrum's leaderless kingdom troubled her, too. Although he kept the subject trained on those topics and Mordred's impending journey, she knew that was not his only concern. Several times his expressive blue eyes would drop from hers to gaze at her ripening cleavage and the barely noticeable rise of her belly. His words would falter and he'd take a deep gulp of wine to right himself.

His acceptance of her being with child was still very slow in coming, but at least he was trying. She doubted if she could love him more for it.

As he continued his nightly rituals behind the changing screen, she surrendered to the pull of the table's contents. Where to begin? She had rejected numerous fabrics based on color and sensation only to choose them again later. Hours had passed, and the stack still had not diminished. Perhaps the morning would give her a fresh eye. She gathered them into a pile and set them into a basket. So that left the scrolls.

Again, where to begin? The Great Purge created many orphans. It pained her to read the names. Since Uther began his quest to end magic and those who practiced it before she was born, she recognized none on the list. But she knew the families. She was also aware of some of the stories. Her mother had whispered them to her at night. Deira Degrance had been very careful when she told her children about the days when people practiced the Old Religion and how the King put a stop to it. She warned them never to speak of it. Gwen grew up fearing magic. Of course it was to be feared. Why else would a king kill so many people and leave so many children without mothers and fathers?

"Guinevere." 

Arthur's quiet voice at her ear made her jump. So deep in thought, she hadn't heard his approach. 

"I'm sorry," he said, drawing her close. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I know." She smiled up at him. When he returned the gesture slower than usual, she studied his face. Lines of strain marked the corners of his eyes. Her fingertips lightly traced the lines. "What is it?"

"You should be in bed."

"Why don't I believe that's all that troubles you?"

His grin was real and affable. Shrugging, he said, "I don't know. I don't like seeing you work so."

Words of protest formed, but the sudden move into his gentle arms stayed their completion. Giggles erupted instead. As they always did whenever he lifted her. Many saw Arthur as a warrior on the battlefield and a just, fair king at Court. But only Gwen was fortunate enough to know the amorous side of him. To feel his pulse quicken from a kiss. To hear his low groans of satisfaction from a caress. Or to see his delight in making her happy over simple things like flowers or unnecessary, extravagant gifts such as jewels or fine linens. To know his unconditional love. It frightened her to know there was once a time that she came close to losing it.

Carefully, he placed her in the center of the bed. A pendant dangled from his neck as he leaned over her. The small treasure was an early gift in their marriage. Her mother had given the tiny, silver emblem to Gwen's father on their last anniversary. Every time Gwen saw the charm resting against Arthur's chest, she was warmed by the sense of family. 

He crawled over her to get to his side of the bed. Once he became settled, he toyed with her braid. "You have this look in your eyes."

"There you go wanting all my secrets again."

"Every last one." Chuckling, he kissed her nose. "What was it? I saw a hint of sadness."

"Sadness?"

He nodded. "That's what I saw."

"I'm not." She tugged her gown to make it more comfortable around her. With her expanding bosom, the fit had become quite snug. 

"You could take it off." His eyes gleamed with suggestion. "I wouldn't mind."

"I would."

Arthur rolled his eyes and laughed outright. 

"I suppose I could wear one of your sleeping tunics."

He leapt from the bed like a deer running through the forest. His agility astounded her. She loved watching him move. It was so graceful and purposeful, too. Like now, as he destroyed his wardrobe in search of her request.

"Really, Arthur! It isn't that hard to find. Here, let me—"

"No, stay there. I have you right where I want you," he said over his shoulder. "Don't you dare move."

"I dare not," she murmured under her breath.

The broad shoulders bunched and flexed as he continued to sort and toss things about. Despite a white tunic hiding his perfect form from her view, candlelight allowed Gwen to see the outline of his body clearly enough. Gods, his body was like a work of art. All hard and muscly. Her gaze drifted downward as he bent over. The brown sleeping pants stretched like a second skin. Warmth flooded her. 

Oh my, she thought. Her thoughts had never been so wanton before. Yet, his bum…

"Found it!" 

Triumph beamed from him as he waved his spoils in the air. 

Gwen blinked. Arthur smirked. A knowing grin defined their silent conversation as he helped her remove the ill-fitting gown and replace it with his tunic. 

"Ah, yes." His gaze and fingertip traced a line along the vee of the shirt. "Tying wouldn't serve you well, I'd imagine."

"Or you well," she said, knowing him all too well.

"Me?" He didn't bother with innocence. "No, not me at all. I like—"

"Ooh!" 

Movement, a flutter really, swept inside her lower belly. The sensation was slight but distinct. Her hand pressed down in an attempt to feel it again.

"Guinevere, what is it?" Color drained from her husband's face. He was poised to run. "Should I summon Gaius?"

"No." My poor, dear sweet king, she thought. Taking his hand, she said, "I'm fine."

"But…"

"Ahh!" 

There it was again. 

Gwen drew Arthur's hand to her and placed it just so. Right on the spot of the last bit of movement. Maybe he wouldn't feel it. She could barely feel it herself, but maybe if he felt it, too, his fears would calm. He would grow to love this time as much as she.

"What…?" he asked in a choked voice. He looked down at where his large hand rested on her barely distended abdomen. 

"Ssh, love…just feel."

"Do you hurt?" 

"No, Arthur. Just be quiet a moment!" she scolded gently. His fears would keep the questions coming. If he would only be still and allow this to happen, he would know.

Seconds passed. Nothing. Not even the urge to relieve herself which was happening often as the child grew within. Gwen had almost given up hope when the barest of sensations trembled inside her.

"There!" she whispered.

Arthur frowned. "What?"

When he moved to draw back, she pressed his hand tighter against her. "Don't you dare move, Arthur Pendragon. Don't you dare."

He gave her a look that said she couldn't order him about. Her responding look warned him not to give voice to that sentiment. To his credit, he was well versed in their unspoken language.

Then, just as suddenly as it all started, the flurries returned. Several in quick succession. All slight. None forceful enough to raise concern but with enough impact to tickle Gwen's insides. 

Arthur had to feel it, too! He just had to.

She looked into his eyes for confirmation.

Her breath caught. Oh, gods. Water brimmed his long, thick lashes. His blue eyes were the brightest she'd ever seen.

"Guinevere?" he said her name with a reverence she'd never heard before. "That's our child?"

"Yes," she said, nodding as joy bubbled inside her. "Yes, that's our child. Our baby. Growing and moving."

"Ours." He sat on the bed beside her. His hand stayed against her small, barely noticeable belly. "Yours and mine."

"Of course, yours and mine." She tried to keep any indignation from seeping out. She tried really hard, but the tiny bit that came to the surface was not her fault.

Arthur looked at her and laughed softly. "Sorry. You know what I meant."

She nodded. She knew.

"I love you. You know that, too?" he asked, almost as if it was the first time the words had been spoken between them. He glanced down at his hand and began to stroke gently. "And you, too. Tell me you know, Guinevere."

"I know, Arthur." She covered her hand with his. Marveling as she often did at how small hers were against his. How hers were the color of honey and his were ruddy and worn from battle, but ever so gentle every time he touched her. "I love you, too, Arthur, and this is what our love made."

His other hand cupped the back of her neck. Goosebumps tingled from his soft caresses. This silence was pleasant. This silence felt right.

"I don't want to leave you." Arthur sighed. "Remember when I spoke of becoming a farmer?"

He tried to laugh, but his eyes didn't match the sound.

Gwen brushed the hair from his forehead. "I remember, but your people need you. And I know you'll do what is necessary to keep our home safe."

"With Camelot caught in the middle, I sense this is a trap."

"Trust your instincts. Perhaps instead of going into battle, this is a time to gather our allies instead."

"Brilliant and beautiful." He kissed her, long and deep. "I promise I won't be gone long."

"Good. I'd like that very much."


	9. Alliances, Protection & Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur seeks allies. Merlin protects. Gwen investigates.

Part Nine

"Remember when I spoke of becoming a farmer?"

The question came to mind throughout the night and prevented Arthur from having a restful slumber. Snuggled close to Guinevere with his hand slipped underneath his, now her tunic to rest against her forming belly, Arthur could not help but to ponder how simpler their lives would have been if he were but a farmer and not the monarch of a great kingdom. 

Would neighboring farmers battle him for choice farmland? 

Would he have to worry about being caught in the middle of wars and control for…what? Livestock? Access to water? What would be his greatest concern? 

Would a sister resort to treachery and sorcery to take over his farm? Would his wife who toiled beside him to bring in crops and create a warm, happy home have to fear for her life because his sister would be so possessed by an obsessive need to have what was his, including his very happiness?

Just then a flutter whispered against his palm. A shudder went through him. Again. He'd lost track how many times the slight movement occurred since they rested under the covers. Every time he waited for Guinevere to wake and he marveled like a child when she didn't. She lay there so serene, so beautiful. His Queen. His love. 

Arthur rolled onto his back and like always, she moved too, curling against him. It was this that made sleeping away from her so difficult. He never told her, but whenever they were apart, he took a small token of hers with him. Usually a handkerchief or a small scarf. Something that carried her scent. Anything that reminded him of her and helped him sleep. Sometimes just a deep inhale was enough to aid him in drifting off. Others, he'd lay awake for hours, looking at the stars and reminding himself that those same stars would guide him home again. 

Her hand rested on his chest. In slumber, her fingers sought the pendant she'd given him as a wedding gift. It was a silver circle. A small little thing, really, but her eyes had been wet and hopeful when she watched him open the present. Just from her face, he had known the pendant had significance. When she explained that it had been a gift from her mother to her father, he had promised to wear it always. 

Arthur sighed. So many promises plagued him. True, being a farmer would free him of some, but other than having him and Guinevere sharing a peaceful life, he couldn't imagine trading roles. The obligation to Camelot felt like a chore, at times, but he loved the land and the people. Under his reign, they had known peace. True peace and not the false sense of contentment that had been in place while his father had sat on the throne. Arthur knew that he could achieve it again. 

The answer was what he hadn't want to acknowledge before but now that he had he no longer believed there would be a going back. The Morgana, who had been kind, caring, and loving, no longer existed. What she did to Guinevere proved that. She had to be found and there could be no mercy when that happened. 

Decision made, Arthur drifted off to sleep. When he woke the next morning, the burdens that had weighed him seemed lighter. Of course, he still did not wish to leave Guinevere. But the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

"You are very quiet this morning," she said, turning around for him to fasten her gown. With her condition a secret, she did not request her maid to dress her. Instead, Arthur eagerly volunteered his assistance.

"Your beauty has stunned me and left me speechless." He brushed her hair aside to kiss her neck. 

Her giggle made him smile. She turned to face him and he was indeed transfixed. The russet gown was exquisite against her glowing skin. The morning sunlight beamed through the windows to capture every sparkle in her brown eyes. Dots of pink colored her cheeks and her smile widened.

"Arthur?"

"You are…" He searched for the right words, but there were none to aptly describe the vision she was. 

She smoothed her hands over the folds of the dress to finally rest at her abdomen. "Do you like the dress? Can you…see?"

He stepped forward to take her hands. "No, the dress hides your condition while it highlights your beauty."

"Arthur, you flatter me. Soon, this dress won't hide much. We'll have to decide on when best to make the announcement."

He nodded. "We'll decide when I return." He kissed her slow and deep, holding her close longer than usual. When they parted, it was with reluctance. "It's getting late. I need to speak with Merlin."

"Isn't he going with you?"

"He's not my manservant anymore. Remember?"

"But…" She nodded. "I suppose not."

"I've gone places without him before." He laughed. "Besides, he has work to do here."

She followed him to the door. "I'll be thinking of you every day."

He pulled the pendant free of his armor to show her. "And I you. Rest, Guinevere. Please?"

"I will."

"Promise," he said with a stern look.

Annoyance flashed in those brown eyes and he had to bite back a smile and a retort. Pushing would only resort in the opposite of what he wanted. Well, too much pushing.

The stare down ended with her blessing him with a faint smile and a nod. "Promise."

Arthur found Merlin's chambers empty. The same was said of Gaius'. Surely, he wasn't at the tavern at this hour. Arthur stormed down the castle steps with the tavern as his destination when he discovered Merlin standing in wait with his horse packed and ready alongside Arthur's and the knights who were accompanying him.

This was awkward. Arthur paused for a moment. Then he beckoned Merlin to follow him so that they could speak in private.

"We're late," Merlin said. "And this time it's not my fault."

"No, it isn't. No, yes, it is. In a way it is because I've been looking for you and had you been…" Arthur drew in a breath. "Merlin, you're not going."

His former manservant frowned. "I'm not? Why not? I should go. You need me."

"Actually, I don't need you with me," Arthur said. "I need you here."

"Here?"

Arthur looked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear. When he was confident that they were alone, he said, "Yes, here with Guinevere. She's with child."

Merlin's mouth dropped open. When he looked ready to shout, Arthur clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Not a word. You must not say anything to anyone. Gaius knows, but no one else. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

Only when he nodded and Arthur was satisfied did Arthur remove his hand. 

"Congratulations," Merlin whispered. "This is wonderful!"

Arthur allowed a faint smile to come through. "Yes, Guinevere is very excited."

Merlin said, "I'm sure you both are. Of course, I'll stay and look out for her."

"Thank you. I should return in a week. Gaius will be assigning a nursemaid soon. Lamorak and Safir are assigned to her, but… I'd feel better if… Well, you know."

Merlin's expression sobered. "I know."

A couple of days later, Arthur sat before Queen Annis and her Council. They listened patiently to his concerns about the Saxons, the unrest in Sarrum's leaderless kingdom, and Morgana. While he did not divulge all the details about what transpired between Morgana and Guinevere, he revealed enough to stress that no kingdom would be safe while she was free to roam. 

The Council appeared eager to solve the east and west problems, but the Morgana situation gave them pause until Annis spoke.

"You are all under the assumption that King Arthur's concerns with Morgana are merely a family dispute. It wasn't so long ago that Morgana tried to use our resources to bring down Camelot. I know Morgana," Annis said. "Arthur has not misspoken. Morgana is ruthless. If she manages to overthrow his rule, she will not stop there."

"Does this mean I have your support?" Arthur asked.

"Fully," Annis said. "We have rebuilt what we have lost due to her deceptions. I will not allow her to destroy my kingdom. She must be stopped. Whatever you need, whenever you need it we will be there."

"First, we must get the Saxons and Sarrum's kingdom under control," Arthur said. "Without leaders, she will strike there first and make all of us vulnerable."

"Agreed." Annis nodded. "Who are your other allies?"

Arthur smiled. "I came to you first. Nemeth is next."

"I'll speak with King Olaf," Annis said with a light chuckle.

"I would appreciate that very much." 

The Queen's offer to speak with Olaf on his behalf was a godsend. As far as Arthur knew Vivian's enchantment had yet to be broken, he did not want to risk an alliance because the princess's unrequited, albeit enchanted feelings, still lingered and would never, ever be returned. 

Arthur would never regret the bonds of friendship that had been formed between him and Annis. Given their initial meeting, he was very fortunate to call her ally instead of foe.

The next morning, Arthur and his knights began their journey to Nemeth. While the talks with Queen Annis and her Council had not gone as smoothly as he would have liked, in the end, his goal was accomplished. King Rodor and Princess Mithian also had firsthand knowledge of Morgana's wickedness. He didn't want to be too eager, but he doubted that convincing them to put an end to his sister's quest for power would be too difficult. And the faster, he accomplished this mission, the sooner he could return to Guinevere.

AG*AG

Since Arthur's departure, tending to Gwen became a priority for Merlin. Of course, she accused his attentiveness of being Arthur's doing. In a way it was, but in truth, Merlin enjoyed the time spent with her. It reminded him of the old days and reinforced his need to keep her safe.

He knocked once and she told him to come in. Two plates lay in wait on the table and she beckoned him with a wave. 

"Sit," Gwen said. "You're having dinner with me. Unless you have other plans…?"

"How could I refuse an invitation from the Queen?" 

He joined her at the table. He doubted if Arthur had this in mind when he ordered him to keep watch of Gwen, but what the King didn't know… Merlin laughed at the thought. Arthur would threaten to run him through if he knew that Merlin had sat at his table and shared a meal with his Queen in his absence. Little did Arthur know the number of meals that Merlin had shared with Gwen years before she became his Queen. Merlin was smart enough not to tell.

"What's so funny?" Gwen asked as she chose a strawberry to bite into.

"Arthur wouldn't like this," he blurted out. 

She smiled in return and he laughed out loud.

"You know he wouldn't," Merlin said. 

Humor danced in her eyes. She shrugged. "No, he wouldn't, but he wouldn't run you through over it."

Merlin's laughter increased. "You think not?"

Her laughter mingled with his. "He would just threaten it. I wouldn't let him hurt you."

"I know." 

Their attention turned to the food. While Merlin indulged in roasted chicken and potatoes, he noted that Gwen's tastes went toward lighter fare. He supposed her condition still affected her appetite. Then he noticed that what she ate, she did so with gusto. Ah, consuming for two had the strawberries, carrots, and turnips cleared in no time. 

"Did Dolma like the fabric?" Gwen asked. "If I had her measurements, I could have had one of the seamstresses make her a dress."

Merlin forced himself to remain carefree and relaxed as he answered her. "Yes, she loved it. Don't worry about a fancy dress. She's not the type to go in for frills and the like."

"But she's a woman."

He coughed. "Um, yes, but you saw her. She's not like you."

Gwen frowned. "No, but… Are you referring to the magic? Otherwise, most women like nice things."

"She doesn't," he said quickly. "She just wanted a dress. That's all. It was enough."

"If you say so." Her frown deepened. After wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin, she looked away.

Merlin watched her closely. Her turmoil made him uncomfortable. He felt responsible somehow. The chicken and potatoes lost their appeal. His appetite vanished. 

"What is it?" 

She hesitated for just a moment before responding. "I get the sense that you disapprove."

"Of what? Dresses?"

"Merlin."

"What, Gwen?" He pushed his plate aside and leaned in. Although their social status had changed, moments like this appeared and he forgot himself. She was still the friend who ran to him when something went wrong and he was still the friend whose arms were open to accept her. He did not like seeing her distressed.

"Magic," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes. "I sense that you disapprove of magic or at least the sorceress who helped me."

This surprised him. Oh, how she got this wrong.

"She held me for surety," he said with a humor. "Otherwise we all owe her. Camelot would not be the same…without you. I could never disapprove of her."

A faint blush colored her cheeks and he realized that he hadn't been the cause of that response in many, many years. A sense of pride soared through him, but he remembered himself and contained it. Somewhat.

"Then it must be magic," she stated. "When Arthur offered you the new position, you must have felt unable to refuse."

It was his turn to look away, but only to collect his thoughts. Once gathered, he drew in a breath and answered her as truthfully as he could allow. "I'm honored to have this position. I don't view magic as the enemy. There's a lot to be understood about it."

She nodded. "So true. I've gone through reams of Uther's records, trying to understand his reasons for the Great Purge."

"You have?" Merlin grew cold. He hadn't been aware of this. He doubted if Uther would have admitted to using magic to create a son, but stranger things had happened. 

"Yes. It's so odd. There was a time when people could practice magic openly and then suddenly, he revoked the privilege," she said. "Uther was not an easy person. I think we know that perhaps better than most, but the suddenness of his decision… Merlin, I believe there is more to his ban than the belief that magic is evil. Cynwrig and Elva aren't evil. Dolma wasn't evil."

"No, no they aren't."

She shook her head. "If only I could find the origins of his decision…I think that would truly help Arthur come to a decision about the ban."

"Really?" He sat very still. "Do you think so?"

"Brute force alone is not sufficient to fight Morgana," Gwen said. "She will use magic. To be victorious, we have no choice but to do the same. I will not be made a widow because of her."

Merlin left the royal chambers in a daze. He had never seen Gwen so fierce with her convictions. It was almost as if she, too, had seen the vision of Arthur dead at the hands of Mordred. He knew that was impossible, but the glint in her eyes was that determined. He knew the answers she sought, but dare he tell her? He desperately needed guidance. Under the light of the moon, he ran out to the forest and called for his old friend.

"O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes!"*

Wind stirred the branches. Anticipation soared through Merlin as it always did whenever he called for the Great Dragon. Wings spread wide, the dragon swooped in to land just a few feet from Merlin. 

Kilgharrah bowed his large scaly head. "Greetings, young warlock."

"It's good to see you again," Merlin said, remembering Kilgharrah's warning from their last meeting. It was obvious that the dragon's movements weren't swift as they once had been. He didn't want to imagine the day when he called and the dragon did not appear. 

"And you, but you didn't request my presence to discuss my health."

Merlin bit back at smile at the dragon's bluntness. In the past, Kilgharrah's ability to drive home a point without a coating of honey to sweeten the harshness was irksome. Now, Merlin had grown to appreciate it.

"True, I'm at a loss. Arthur is reconsidering the ban on magic."

"That's what we've always wanted. There shouldn't be any confusion about what should happen."

"They want answers about why Uther banned magic—"

"And you're worried that Arthur will learn of your duplicity—"

"No!"

"Yes!" Kilgharrah shot back. "Yes, telling Arthur the lie about his birth was a grave mistake."

"He would have killed Uther. He would have killed his father!"

Kilgharrah chuckled. "Would that have been so bad?"

"You don't understand." Merlin moved to a stump and sat. "Arthur wouldn't have survived that."

"His survival is key and what measures have you taken to guarantee that? I warned you about Morgana and about Mordred, but you did not take heed, young warlock."

"I know," Merlin mumbled.

"What? I can't hear you."

Merlin glared at him. The dragon's response was a smirk. 

"I should have listened, but Mordred was just a boy…and Morgana."

"They're both threats," Kilgharrah said. "That's all they ever were. That's what they will continue to be. But you want to know what to do about Uther's ban and the truth about Arthur's birth."

"Yes," Merlin said.

Kilgharrah gave him a look filled with such understanding that tears pricked the backs of Merlin's eyes. He swallowed hard and hoped that this indeed was not their last meeting. It could not end like this.

"What purpose would another lie serve?" the Great Dragon asked. 

AG*AG

Gwen unfolded the scrap of parchment paper and laid it flat on the desk. After dipping the quill in a vat of ink, she added another mark to the paper. This was the seventh. Arthur had been gone seven days and she hoped that today would bring him home. 

Movement fluttered in her belly. The last couple of days, the sensation had become more pronounced. She caressed her growing abdomen. 

"You miss him, too." 

Children's laughter drifted up to her from the open window. She rose to look down at them. Soon, she thought, her child would laugh, run, and play, too. 

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" 

Gaius entered with a stack of books hugged to his chest. She rushed over to help him, but he avoided her and put the books on the table. He blew out a rush of air from the exertion, but still managed to give her a big smile.

"My Lady, you're looking well."

"I feel well." She pointed to a chair. "Please, sit with me."

"I ran into Geoffrey," Gaius said as he settled into the chair adjacent to hers.

"That's where you got the books. I told him I would send a squire."

"Don't be too hard on him. I volunteered. How's your appetite?"

She laughed. "You and Merlin are almost as bad as Lamorak and Safir."

"We're all guilty of caring about you." Gaius smiled. "Have you changed your mind about the nursemaid?"

"A nursemaid will reveal the secret, would it not?" She shrugged. "We're not ready to make the announcement."

"Is Arthur more receptive now?"

This question made her heart soar. She would never forget the look on his face when he felt the baby move or how his hand caressed her there the entire night. 

"Yes! I can't say his fears have been abated, but he is…warming to having a child. Gaius, he will be a wonderful father. When he returns, will you talk to him about childbirth? I fear he won't listen to me. My mother had two children without any problems."

"No, Deira was in great health when she gave birth to you and Elyan."

"Is it too much to assume that my health would be similar to hers?"

Gaius shook his head. "No, not at all."

She nodded. Arthur wouldn't listen to her, but he would have to believe Gaius. The physician was present at both of their births. Even though the words had never been spoken outright, Gwen knew he cared about her and would never let anything happen. She trusted him.

"What with all these books?" the old physician asked. 

"I'm reviewing Uther's records. He was quite meticulous except for when it comes to his reasons for the ban on magic."

Gaius frowned. "Why are you looking into that?"

"To understand his reasons," she said. "He must have had some. Magic was allowed and then suddenly it wasn't. My mother told me about the Great Purge. She lost friends. I knew some of the families. It must have been horrid times."

The light in Gaius' eyes dimmed. "It was."

"Do you remember?"

"Families being torn apart? Accusations being taken as truth? Screams chilling the air as loved ones died at the stake?" Gaius nodded. "Yes, I remember."

"You've disagreed with our rulings," she said quietly, as she watched him to see his reaction.

He shook his head. "No, of course not. I disagreed with Uther's methods if you want my honest opinion. You and Arthur haven't hunted people down or ripped apart their homes."

That was true. The vicious hunting that Uther used in his methods had never been a part of Arthur's reign. Peace had always been her husband's goal and he had obtained it until Morgana returned. 

"So one day it was peaceful," she said, trying to understand, "and the next, the order came to search homes. I know about that kind of search. I almost died because of such a search and by Uther's decree."

Gaius nodded.

She stood and began to pace. Her research into Uther's laws should have produced results by now. She had wanted desperately to have something to share with Arthur upon his return. It bothered her to know that all her attempts were for naught.

"Did he confide in you?"

The physician's eyes widened. "My Lady?"

"Uther…did he ever tell you…" She stopped behind her chair. Her fingers clutched the back in her frustration. "I have all these books and they're only words. No information. No insight. There must have been a reason!"

"Gwen, you should calm yourself." Gaius rose and moved towards her.

"I'm fine, Gaius! Just frustrated. Why all the secrecy? Where are the answers?"

As Gaius opened his mouth to speak, a knock drowned out his words. The door opened. Lamorak stepped inside.

"My Lady, excuse me for interrupting. The King and his party are at the gates—"

"Thank you, Lamorak!" 

Excitement coursed through her and a twinge of something else. She took a step to follow the knight with Gaius at her side. Then the twinge became something more. Something stronger. Bolder. It squeezed and constricted her abdomen. The pain was overwhelming. Screams echoed in her ears. When Gaius caught her, she realized the screams came from her.

"No!" she cried, clutching her tightening belly. "Please, no!"

Lamorak carried her to the bed. 

"Quick! Get the King!" Gaius ordered. "And Merlin! Find Merlin!"

And that was the last thing Gwen heard before the pain overtook her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ *=the dragon's call was found at Merlin wikia.]


	10. Where the Throne Does Not Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur arrives home to the worst news.

Part Ten

The mission to strengthen Camelot's defenses by broadening its alliances had been more successful than Arthur dared hope when he first set out. King Rodor was more than willing to offer Nemeth's support. He even volunteered a group of his men to aid Mordred's search for Percival. If Arthur had not been so eager to return home to Guinevere, he would have accompanied them. Instead, he was assured by Rodor and Mithian's word that some of their best would make the journey while the rest would begin to intensify their training in anticipation of the Saxons and whatever mayhem Morgana was planning.

A day's journey away from Nemeth, a messenger from Caerleon met Arthur and his men on the road. Queen Annis had secured an alliance with King Olaf who in turn would bring King Odin into the fold. As Annis relayed to Arthur via the messenger, provided that King Rodor was in agreement, the Five Kingdoms were united and would be united in battle if it came to that. Arthur felt a surge at her words. Of course, he did not want to go to war, but knowing that Camelot had support… He relayed his gratitude to the messenger to forward to Annis and added he would send further word to her later. 

The messenger raced off the way he had come and Arthur instructed his men to increase their pace. He was more than ready to be home. By the next day, they were just at the gates when Leon came rushing toward them. Even from a distance, Arthur sensed something was horribly wrong. He raced forward to meet his trusted knight.

"Sire!"

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"The Queen—"

If Leon said anything else, Arthur didn't hear him. The pounding of his horse's hooves as it galloped across the stone pavement warred with the pounding in his ears. Guinevere. Gods, for Leon to come with such urgency and continue to follow him at a breakneck pace made only one thought take precedence in Arthur's mind.

Please let her be alive.

The journey from his horse through the castle to the royal chambers happened in a blur. People moved out of his path as he ran down the corridor and into his room. When he finally burst through the doors, he stopped for just a moment to catch his breath. Leon stood at a discreet distance behind him. Although they hadn't spoken since they met just inside the gates, Arthur knew the knight was worried. 

Move, he told himself and he did. Long, fast steps took him to their bed where Gaius hovered over the still form of his wife. Her beautiful honey-colored skin appeared chalky and pale. The expressive brown eyes that he often read to gauge her thoughts or moods were closed to him. He looked down to her chest for confirmation of the steady rise and fall of breath, but it wasn't sure if his eyes were deceiving him.

He ripped off his gloves before he took her hand. Small and slender, it felt cool and clammy in his grasp. He couldn't bring himself to turn away from her even as he feared the worst.

"Gaius, is she…" He drew in a deep ragged breath. "Is she alive?"

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur exhaled. Once the air was released, he reminded himself to breathe again. He gently rubbed her hand between his, determined to give her warmth. 

"What happened?" Although his voice was soft, there was an edge to it. 

"She's having complications."

"What?" Arthur tore his gaze from his wife to look at the old physician. "What kind of complications? What happened, Gaius?"

"I'm not entirely sure," the other man answered. "We were talking and then she was in pain. It happened very suddenly."

"When? How long as she been like this?"

"Just when we received word that you were at the gates." Gaius rested the back of his hand against her forehead. A frown marred his brow as he pulled his hand away. 

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked. His chest constricted. This was what he had feared. Of course, he had imagined it happening during childbirth. Not like this. Not just randomly. He took her other hand and began to rub it, too. "Gaius, you have to help her."

"I am, Sire."

"Arthur…" His name came as a coarse whisper at first, but when she said it again, there was some strength in her tone. "Arthur."

He could have cried with joy. "I'm here, Guinevere." 

Ignoring all rules of propriety, he sat beside her on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open. Water rimmed the lids and slipped down the corners.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"No." Careful of her, he held her to him. "No, Guinevere. I'm sorry. I should never have left. Please, no."

With one arm wrapped around her shoulder and the other at her waist, Arthur felt the tightness that gripped her. When she shuddered with pain, it went through him, too. Her cry of agony was torture. Her fingers dug into him. If he could have taken the ache for her, he would have. 

"Gaius!" he yelled. "You must do something! Isn't there something you can do?"

Gaius had already prepared a goblet. He handed it to Arthur who put it to Guinevere's mouth. She drank the liquid down. A few moments passed and she was asleep again. 

"Gaius?" Arthur asked in a choked whisper as the old man took the empty goblet from her. "I can't lose her."

"It's a sleeping potion to help with the pain." His expression was unreadable as he met Arthur's stare. "I will do everything I can for her. You should let her rest now."

AG*AG

Fog and confusion greeted Gwen as she drifted awake. Slowly, her senses returned to her as her eyes regained focus. Candlelight flickered from the overhead candelabra, casting a warm glow in the chambers. Although her limbs felt heavy, she forced herself to move. Her hand slid underneath the covers to rest on her small mound. There was no flutter of movement and no pain either. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she hoped that there was still a child inside. She caressed her tiny belly in the hopes that her touch would help somehow. Beside her, Arthur became to stir. 

"Guinevere," he murmured in a voice tinged with worry and exhaustion. He gently brushed stray curls from her cheek. "How are you? Are you hurting?"

"I'm not in pain," she answered. Unable to face what that could mean, she turned her thoughts elsewhere. "How was your trip?"

"It was fine," he said. He moved and she could see that he had removed his chainmail and was now dressed in a white tunic and brown pants. Lines of strain spread from his eyes and framed his mouth. "How are you?" he asked again.

"I'm frustrated," she replied. "I went through piles of Uther's records and couldn't find anything to explain his reasons for the ban—"

"Guinevere—"

"There must be a reason," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Magic was allowed one day and the next it was wrong—"

"Guinevere—"

"We need answers, Arthur—"

"Guinevere, stop!" He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed gently. "I could have lost you today. I don't give a damn about Uther and his reasons for banning magic. None of that matters to me."

"But we have to be prepared to fight Morgana—"

"Damn Morgana," he said forcefully. "Damn her! Is that what you've been doing while I've been gone? Guinevere, I wanted you to rest."

"I rested." Tears filled her eyes. "I did. I—I…"

"None of that matters to me if I lose you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I can't lose you. Don't you understand that?"

She nodded. So many times, she had feared the worst when he left for an expedition or a conference and didn't return in a timely manner. Losing him would be unbearable. As bad as…

"Arthur?"

"Yes?" 

"I can't feel anything anymore," she said quietly. "I don't know if…"

As if he understood what she could not bring herself to say, he pressed his finger against her mouth to stop her from having to say the words aloud.

"Gaius gave you something for the pain. He's gone to his chambers. He'll return shortly."

"But the baby?"

Arthur swallowed hard. "You're still with child."

She breathed a sigh of relief. On reflex, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. As always, he returned the embrace. His hands rubbed her back and sides. His nose tickled her neck. Guinevere was so grateful to have him home again. To have him there with her now. When she had gotten her fill of his solid warmth, she pulled out of the embrace to cup his face between her palms.

"I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," he said. His clear blue eyes bored into hers with ferocious intensity. "Anything, Guinevere."

"I want the Dolma brought here."

He pulled back slightly. "Guinevere?"

"I was fine and in good health. Gaius said so! My mother gave birth to Elyan and me without any complications."

"I understand that, but what does the Dolma have to do with your mother?"

"Don't you see? This is Morgana's doing" Gwen said. "What she did to me in the Dark Tower. What if the Dolma only cured me of half of Morgana's spell? We never considered she'd attack your heir, but we should have."

"And you want me to bring the Dolma here?" he asked. "To Camelot?"

"Yes!" She grabbed his hand and placed it over her abdomen. "She can save our baby. She saved me. I know she can save our baby!"

His silent stare revealed nothing. He seemed at a loss and that frightened Gwen. It angered her, too. Surely, he was not so blind and stubborn as his father. He was a better man than that. A better king.

"Arthur, please!" she said. "Shall I get down on my knees and beg you?"

She moved to leave the bed, but he held firm and wouldn't allow her to move.

"Guinevere, no!" 

"Arthur, please," she cried as tears overtook her. 

He looked ready to give her an answer. Suddenly, a searing pain tore through her. If he said anything, she couldn't hear him over her scream. Then once again, the world went dark.

AG*AG

After the talk with Kilgharrah, Merlin spent the night in the woods. Although his chambers gave him solitude, the forest gave him peace. There were no whispers of footsteps in the corridor to distract him or bits of conversation to filter through the stone walls or wooden door. In nature, Merlin had a connection to his true self that he didn't have to hide and it allowed him to fully relax and ponder the dragon's advice. 

Far too many times he'd made rash decisions. In his youth, he had thought that he knew better and now as the years progressed and the vision of Arthur's death was made clear to him, he could not deny that he had been wrong. 

So horribly wrong and impulsive. 

Yet, was it too much to hope that fate could be fluid? That he could create a different path that would lead to a different destiny for his good friend and King?

When he woke the next morning, Merlin was no closer to an answer as to how to progress. After years of living a lie, it became hard to see a way where the truth was the answer. So, he walked slowly back to Camelot, lost in his thoughts. Along the way, he picked herbs that he knew Gaius needed for his potions and tinctures. He considered Gwen's words about how far they had come. He was no longer a manservant and she no longer a maid. Gwen lived up to her position with grace and dignity while he tried to fulfill his role without giving his secret away. 

Dejected, tired, and a little angry with himself, Merlin returned to the castle by late afternoon. Immediately, he sensed something was a bit off. Torn between heading to the royal chambers or the physician's, the decision was taken out of his hands, when Gaius rounded the corner and almost ran into him.

"Merlin! Where have you been? Lamorak has been looking for you!"

"I was in the Darkling Woods," Merlin answered. "Wait—why was Gwen's guard looking for me?" 

Gaius grabbed his arm. "She's not well. You must come with me now!"

They hurried toward the royal chambers. Along the way, Gaius filled him in.

"She's in danger of losing the child," he said in a discreet whisper.

"How? I was just with her. She was fine."

"It came on suddenly," Gaius said. "Arthur is back. He's with her now."

By then, they had reached the doors. Sirs Safir and Leon stood aside to allow them entry. 

Arthur rose from the bed at the sound of their entrance. A dazed expression marked his colorless face. Merlin couldn't fathom what his senses were telling him. It could not be true. Gwen could not be dead.

He rushed across the room to where she lay in the bed. Dimly, he registered the sounds of Gaius following him and Arthur drawing in deep, ragged breaths. Merlin pushed everything from his mind to focus on his friend and took her hand. It was small against his and cool, but a bit of warmth still lingered. He took that as a good sign.

Then her eyes opened. "M-Merlin," she murmured. 

"Gwen, you shouldn't talk. Just rest."

"Find the Dolma," she whispered. "Bring her here."

"My Lady?" 

Merlin could see that the words had been a struggle. She opened her mouth, but nothing else came out. Eventually, she closed her eyes again. He looked at Arthur who was staring at Gwen with fear etched clearly on his face. As if he sensed Merlin's stare, the King turned his attention away from his wife to acknowledge his former manservant's silent question.

"Guinevere believes the sorceress—Dolma—can save our child the same as she saved her," Arthur stated. "She believes this is Morgana's doing."

"Morgana doesn't know she's with child." Merlin left Gwen's bedside to face Arthur. "No one knows outside this room."

Arthur's jaw clenched as he spoke of his sister. "Yes, we kept the news secret out of concern for Morgana, but Guinevere believes that the events at the Dark Tower may have done more than taken her will. Morgana could very well have anticipated an heir." His voice grew hoarse with emotion. "She could be the cause of Guinevere's present ailment."

While they spoke, Gaius had been examining Gwen. Merlin noticed the old man's reaction before he made his diagnosis. 

"What is it?" he asked.

Gaius held the Queen's wrist in his hand. He shook his head as he spoke, "Her pulse is slowing."

"Do something!" 

Arthur's cry caused the knights to push into the room. Merlin ordered them back out. After Arthur's nod, they followed. 

"I'm doing everything I can, Sire," Gaius said, quietly but firmly. "Everything."

"It's not good enough," Arthur said just low enough for them to hear. Then louder, he added, "Where is Dolma? Leon is fast. He can bring her here quickly."

"Are you sure about this?" Merlin asked. "Are you sure about Dolma using magic to save the Queen and your child?"

"Yes."

Merlin glanced at Gaius. It was obvious that Gwen's condition was not improving. Only a moment ago, she had been still and quiet. Now, she was moaning in pain. Low moans for it seemed that she barely had the strength to get the sounds out, but from the sound, there was no doubt that she hurt badly. 

Gaius looked down at Gwen and then returned Merlin's stare. A slight frown added another wrinkle to his brow. Merlin knew the old man wondered what Merlin was thinking and probably wanted a moment to consult, but there was no time. In a way, Kilgharrah had tried to warn him of this.

"Could the Tiene Diaga spell that Morgana used on Gwen have caused this?" Merlin asked Gaius.

The old man shook his head. "That spell affects will and self-control. It has no control over fertility."

"But it's possible that she could have attached another spell to cause this," Merlin persisted. "Like Gwen fears. The pain she's going through…have you seen anything like this?"

Gaius shook his head. "No. No, I haven't."

"I don't want to take the risk that Nimueh did," Merlin said, directly to Gaius. "I can't take that risk."

"This isn't the same situation," the physician responded. "It isn't the same at all."

"Who is Nimueh?" Arthur asked, impatiently. "What risk? I'm sending Leon for Dolma at once!"

He stormed toward the door.

"Arthur, wait!" Merlin called out. "That won't be necessary. Dolma is here."

Arthur turned to face him. A scowl of impatience, worry, and absolute fear had constricted his features. "Where? Is she in Camelot?" 

"No," Merlin responded, his heart pounding even as he gained conviction that this was right and the right time. "No in this room."

To his surprise, Arthur didn't understand. He watched in wonder as Arthur ripped away the changing screen and searched the back alcove. When the King returned, his expression now red and murderous, Merlin spoke with firmness.

"I am Dolma," he said. "I can save Gwen."

Arthur stopped in his tracks. "You? You have magic?" He shook his head in disbelief. "No…"

Merlin lifted his chin and looked Arthur in the eyes. "Yes. I was born with it." 

With that said, he crossed to Gwen. He wasn't prepared for the tackle that tore him away from her bedside. The brute strength of Arthur's power surprised him. He didn't struggle or put up a fight. When Arthur threw him to the ground, he laid there and stared up at him. Their breathing was loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"Arthur," Gaius said in a soothing, rational tone, "he can save her. He did it before at the waters of Cauldron."

"But that was a wo-woman," Arthur said.

"It was me." Merlin slowly rose to his feet. "In disguise. I've donned many of them. Please, let me. I love her, too."

Arthur looked down at Gwen. Then he looked from Merlin to Gaius. "You knew? All this time you knew, too, Gaius?"

The physician nodded. 

"You've both lied to us for years," Arthur stated. "All this time…"

"But Gwen—"

"Don't," Arthur said, his voice cracking. "No, tell me what these risks are. Nimueh. What is that? I can't lose her, Merlin."

Merlin took a tentative step forward. "I know. I—"

The moans became more insistent. One of her small hands clutched the bedcovers while the other rubbed her abdomen. She did not fully regain consciousness, but that did not lessen her discomfort.

Arthur gave his consent to Merlin with a single nod. Then in a sudden, swift movement, he grabbed the lapels of Merlin's robe and pulled. "If anything happens to her…"

Merlin read the truth and a promise in Arthur's dark blue eyes. "You'll have my head."

Over the years, the words had been stated between them in jest too many times to count. But not this time. This was no joke. Merlin knew Arthur would kill him if he failed. As Merlin broke free of Arthur's hold and moved in place to begin his incantation, he only had success as his goal. But not for his own life. 

He had to save Gwen and their baby because it was for the best. The Druids, Kilgharrah, Gaius, and even Morgana believed that he—Merlin…Emrys—was the most powerful sorcerer who ever lived. Now, he had to prove it to himself. If he couldn't save Gwen and her unborn child, there would be no hope of him saving Arthur should that moment ever came to pass.


	11. Sting of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the magic reveal.

Part Eleven

The heat of betrayal coursed like fire through Arthur's veins and left hurt in its wake that squeezed so tight until breathing became difficult. The only thing that ever came close to this sensation was the day he discovered Guinevere locked in embrace with Lancelot on the eve of their wedding. Knowing that he could never fully live without her by his side had made forgiving her a necessity. But Merlin's deception—

Arthur's jaw clenched at the thought. 

Merlin had magic. Well, he said he did. Could that be true? Arthur looked away from his former manservant who was speaking quietly with Gaius in the corner to gaze down on Guinevere. Her distress had not lessened. If Merlin's antics caused her harm, the years of camaraderie would not save him. 

A moment later Merlin stood opposite Arthur on the other side of the bed. From this position, he could watch Merlin perform his magic, Arthur thought with an unrestrained bit of contempt. The two locked eyes for a moment. Regret, confidence, and determination stared back at Arthur. He could only guess what shown on his face.

As much as fury threatened to burst from him, it would have to fight through his fear first. In the time since Merlin's confession, Guinevere's breathing had slowed. Her flesh had paled. Her moans were not nearly as frantic as they had been before. Seeing her like this was nothing short of torture. 

"Save her," he said quietly. 

Merlin's response came in the flash of gold in his eyes and in the form of words that Arthur didn't understand. 

"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!"

Just like that, the hapless former manservant who often had a strange "sense about things" transformed into someone Arthur didn't recognize. Every instinct screamed for him to draw his sword, but common sense had to rule out. Guinevere's life demanded it. And because her life was at stake, so was Arthur's.

With arms folded tightly across his chest, he found himself unable to take his eyes off him. Merlin stood with more confidence than he had ever witnessed before. His hands were stretched out over Gwen as more indiscernible words came from him in a powerful, quick succession. 

Energy vibrated around the three of them. Arthur would be a liar if he denied the bizarre sensations that pricked him. Had he ever felt that before? He ran a hand over his forearm, but that did little to lessen that strange feeling of tiny needles pricking him, not enough to hurt but to get his attention. If this was affecting him so strongly, Gods, what was it doing to his Guinevere?

He ached to pull her into his arms, but from the looks of it, Merlin wasn't finished. He now stood with his hands cupped over her abdomen. Eyes still gleaming the brightest gold Arthur had ever seen, Merlin murmured another incantation. Arthur tried to catch the words, but the language was not his. Then as Merlin's eyes returned to normal and he lowered his hands and stepped back, Guinevere inhaled a deep breath.

Fearful that it was her last, Arthur found himself unable to move. 

"Go ahead," Merlin said quietly. "She's fine now."

The unease that restrained Arthur drifted away in layers. He watched in awe as the beautiful earthy tones of her flesh returned and faint hints of pink dusted her cheeks and mouth. The even rise and fall of her chest seemed like the grandest miracle of his life. He took her hand. Warmth soothed him in ways he never imagined. Suddenly, he was driven by a force to seek further confirmation. Without pause, he slipped his other hand under the cover to settle on her small, distended abdomen. Just a caress had been his intention, but to his quiet pleasure, he received more. A slight flutter brushed against his palm. He couldn't stop the tears that pricked his eyes if he had wanted to.

"Arthur…" 

The soft murmur of his beloved's voice drowned out the sound of Merlin and Gaius' departure. Her hand closed over his just as her eyes opened and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

"Guinevere," he said with a sigh. 

This had been far too close for his peace of mind. What would he have done if he had lost her? 

"There, there," she said, softly, reaching up to touch his face. 

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her tenderly. "How do you feel?"

She smiled. "Tired. Sleepy. Happy."

"Happy?" he repeated. 

She pressed his hand against her belly. "I am still with child. That makes me happy."

"I still have you that makes me happy," he said with a kiss to her forehead. 

When he stood upright, she had drifted off to sleep. He joined her on the bed and carefully held her close. The comfort he drew from the steady beat of her heart lulled his thoughts with the peace that she and their child were alive and well. Drawing strength from that knowledge, his mind and body surrendered to the stress of worrying that he would lose her. He fell into slumber with her secure within his arms. 

AG*AG

Merlin wandered into his chambers a changed man. Revealing himself had been something he had longed for. Years, he had dreamed of it. Telling Arthur the truth had been as important to Merlin as keeping Arthur safe. Yet that dream had been selfish until today. 

"Merlin."

He blinked to find Gaius closing the door. Of course, his old friend had followed him. But if he had words of criticism, Merlin couldn't hear them now.

"I had to, Gaius," he said. "Gwen needed me and I could not let her die."

"Of course you couldn't." Gaius went to him and hugged him. "You had no choice."

After the embrace ended, Merlin began to pace. The hurt and rage that filled Arthur would have to be reckoned with. Gwen's good health would only keep him satisfied for a short while, but after that, Merlin would have to face him. 

"He won't stay angry forever," Gaius said as if reading his thoughts. "Arthur has a good heart. He'll come 'round."

"I lied to him." Merlin paused long enough to look down at the floor. "So many times and in many different ways, everything has been a lie. If he doesn't come around, I won't be able to blame him."

"He's not like Uther," Gaius argued. "He'll be hurt, but he'll listen—"

"How can you be sure?" Merlin cut in. "He's upset with you, but you'll be forgiven. It's different with him and me. He'll remember all the times…" He drew in a harsh breath. "He'll remember everything. He'll question it and wonder who and what I am."

Gaius went to him and took his arm. "Arthur knows you!"

Merlin shook his head. "He's never known the real me. You do. My mother does. Lancelot did. But not Arthur or Gwen. They've only known what I've allowed them to see—"

"You had good reason—"

"There's never a good enough reason to lie to someone you call friend." Merlin headed to his chair and sat. "You saw the way he looked at me."

Gaius joined him at the table. Fresh lines seemed to have been etched in his face since Merlin revealed himself. "I saw confusion."

A sad, humorless laugh erupted from Merlin's chest. "If that's all you saw… I won't say he hates me."

"Good because that wouldn't be fair."

Merlin loved Gaius for his determination to see this through. He wished he had the old man's conviction, but he knew better. Kilgharrah had warned him about so many things, but the Great Dragon had never mentioned this.

"I may have ruined everything," he said quietly.

"Will Gwen live?" Gaius asked.

Merlin stared at him. "Yes."

"Will their child?"

"The protective spell I said over her and the baby should work… I hope."

"Then you haven't ruined everything," Gaius said.

Merlin shook his head. "You don't understand. He'll never lift the ban on magic now. People like me will never be free."

"I don't think so."

"If I had been honest with him years ago, there may have been a chance, but the way he looked at me…" Merlin's chest grew tight at the memory. "Arthur will never forgive me. Even saving Gwen won't earn his forgiveness. Trust me. I know him."

"He forgave Gwen," Gaius said gently.

"That was different." Merlin looked across at the closed door and sighed. "He can't live without her. It's not the same with me. You'll see."

AG*AG

Gwen awoke to feeling more rested than she could remember and terribly hungry. A faint growl echoed the need for food. Then a slight flutter in her belly brought a smile to her face. Alive and well. Both of them. With Arthur home again, everything felt right. But where was he? His side of the bed was cold and empty.

A small candle burned on the bedside table. She took it and went in search of her husband. On bare feet, she padded across the cold, stone floor to slip between the curtains that separated the sleeping area of their chambers from Arthur's current study. 

Scrolls and books lay spread across the table. Flickering torchlight revealed his deep level of concentration. His index finger moved quickly across the parchment as his mouth silently read the words. He was so deep in thought she was able to enjoy the sight of him for several moments before he sensed her presence. When he finally saw her, the intensity in his eyes softened. 

"Go back to bed," he ordered gently. 

"No." 

A glimmer of humor danced in his eyes at her defiance followed by the slightest hint of a smile. 

"You should be resting."

"So should you." She set the candle on the table and cleverly maneuvered herself onto his lap.

He accepted her maneuver with a kiss on her neck. A warm hand settled on her growing abdomen and the length of his white tunic allowed his other hand to rest on her bare thigh. 

"It's late, Arthur, and you've just returned from a trip. Surely, this can wait until morning."

"It could," he said, a quiet edge in his voice, "but I rather it didn't."

"Did the quest for alliances fall through?"

"No, we have support. Even Odin."

She frowned. From his pensive expression, she had begun to fear that Camelot would have to face their enemy alone. Promised support should have pleased Arthur. But maybe he was upset about something else…

"I meant to thank you," she said and kissed his cheek.

"Thank me?" He reared back to look at her. "What for?"

"For having the Dolma brought into Camelot," she replied. "I know resorting to sorcery even though I am your wife could not have been easy for you, especially since it was within Camelot. With magic prohibited and bringing Dolma here…well, some will view it as hypocrisy."

Gwen had looked away as she first gathered her words to express her gratitude. Yet, her eyes didn't have to gaze upon Arthur for her to know when something was amiss. His breath quickened. Even though his touch remained gentle and loving, his body grew dangerously hot. But not with the passion that fueled their couplings. No, this was anger and hurt. Had she caused it?

"Arthur, I'm sorry I put you in that position—"

"Guinevere."

"You're angry." She shifted to leave his lap, but he wouldn't let her.

"Not with you." He lifted his hand from her thigh to cup her face. "I would do anything to save your life, including having a sorceress brought into Camelot. But I didn't have to do that."

"I don't understand."

A low breath heaved from his chest as he murmured, "It seems you didn't know either. You didn't know, did you?" He twisted her band around her finger as he spoke quietly. "You two were so close in the beginning…. I often thought… It was so long ago. I suppose it doesn't matter what I thought, but I need to know the truth. Did you keep the truth from me?"

"What truth?" she asked, completely perplexed. "About the Dolma? I asked Merlin to send her fabric for dresses to thank her. I hadn't mentioned it, but I don't consider that a deception."

"I'm not talking about dresses!" he muttered. He carefully removed her from his lap and placed her on his chair. 

As he stood there, she could see that rage was coursing through him. Rage and something else.

"There is no Dolma!" He yelled. When she jumped, he knelt at her feet and took her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled."

She brushed strands of gold from his eyes. "You're so angry and I don't understand why. Who was I so close with in the beginning? What are you accusing me of?"

"Nothing, my love. Not you. You didn't know either. He deceived us both and has been for quite some time."

"Who?" 

"Merlin," he said bitterly. "He has magic. He is…was the Dolma." 

Saying the words had been a struggle. She saw that clearly. Arthur's face had reddened. His eyes darkened with hurt and sadness. The rage hadn't diminished at all, but all those other emotions were causing great torment for her husband. It hurt her to see him in such pain. Yet, she was wounded, too. Merlin had never once shared this secret with her, but as silence stretched between she and Arthur, she allowed herself to think about the past. Hadn't there been times when occurrences seemed too coincidental to be real? And wasn't Merlin always in the thick of it? She had, of course, pushed her suspicions aside as had everyone else, because that been the easy answer. But easy wasn't always right.

"Arthur—"

"He's lied to us, to me, for years." He stood and began to walk the length of the table. "And he's had magic. Right here. In Camelot! Right under our noses! I would wager he's been laughing at us the entire time."

"No, he's been our friend," she said. Although she wasn't any less hurt, she couldn't deny the depth of their relationship. "He's always been there for both of us."

"Friends do not lie, Guinevere," her husband said. "They do not engage in deception or trickery. It's been years. Not days or months. Years."

"Uther's ban—"

"My father died years ago." He inhaled a sharp breath. "Remember the sorcerer…I asked him to save Father… That was Merlin!"

Arthur stumbled back against the table. "He killed my father with his…sorcery."

"No, Arthur!" She rose and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Merlin would not do that."

"He hated him."

"But he cares for you." She squeezed him tight until he returned her embrace. "He would never hurt you that way. If he had wanted to kill Uther, he could have done it before then. If that was Merlin, he did try to save Uther. I know it. If you don't believe me, you should ask him yourself."

"Ask him?" he laughed bitterly. "I think not. I'm having him banished—"

"I would counsel you to reconsider."

He regarded her through narrowed eyes and spoke through clenched lips. "Guinevere."

"If you would hear me out, my Lord." She stood on tiptoe to kiss his bottom lip.

To her surprise, he returned the kiss, deepening it with his plunging tongue and suckling lips. When they pulled apart, she noticed the fire in his eyes had changed and that maybe he was in a mood to listen instead of embark on a tirade.

"Counsel me, my Queen."

"Well…" She paused to gather her thoughts. One kiss really should not render her this scattered. A couple of calming breaths later, she continued, "We still have Morgana to consider. Merlin's magic will be an asset against hers. To send him away now would give her the advantage. Isn't that why you assigned him the role of Court Liaison to Magic?"

He bristled at that.

"Don't you see how perfect he is for this?" She smiled. "Arthur? We cannot fight Morgana without magic."

"Yet, I cannot ignore that my father had a reason for banning magic." He nodded toward all the documentation that littered the table. "Nothing here tells us why, but I would place another wager Merlin knows."

"You're just angry with him—"

"True, but I cannot ignore the lies. Years of lies. He never once trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

She took his hand and held it between both of hers. "Perhaps we should ask him. Uther's motives are the final cause preventing you from lifting the ban. Now that you know Merlin has magic, surely there is nothing left he has to hide."

"Surely not," Arthur said quietly, but she could hear the doubt in his voice.

The first thing the next morning, she and Arthur stood outside Merlin's chambers. When Arthur hesitated, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. Merlin's less than chipper, "Come in," mirrored the turbulent night that she and Arthur had shared despite their joy of her being alive to see another morning.

A worn leather satchel lay opened on the table. The new robes were draped across the foot of Merlin's untouched bed. And he was dressed in his old clothes—the brown jacket and pants, the blue tunic, and the red kerchief. Gwen's heart sank to see that he was in preparation for flight.

"Would you have said goodbye or just slip away without a word or a glance?" she asked, leaving Arthur's silent side to face Merlin in the middle of the room.

Merlin stopped short. He seemed hesitant to look at her, but when he finally did, she could not resist hugging him.

"You saved my life and the life of our child. Words are not enough to thank you."

He frowned. "You don't have to thank me."

Despite being strongly aware of Arthur's presence and mood, she had questions that demanded answers. She had to voice those first.

"What happened to me yesterday? Was Morgana the culprit?"

Merlin nodded. "Your fears were correct. She had placed another spell on you. I was able to break through it and release its hold. You don't have to worry about your baby any more."

"What if Morgana finds out that Guinevere is with child?"

Merlin looked surprised that Arthur had spoken to him. He swallowed hard before he answered. "She may, but I put a protective spell on both of them."

"How do we know it will work?" Arthur asked, coldly.

"Arthur!"

"You'll have to trust me," Merlin said.

Gwen glanced over her shoulder at her husband. That was the thing. Trust. It had been broken. Horribly so. 

"You said something to Gaius about Nimueh and a risk. Who is Nimueh and what was the risk?" Arthur questioned. "Is Guinevere still in danger?"

Merlin opened his mouth, but nothing came. He was obviously at odds with what to do. Gwen felt for him. However, she recognized what was needed for them all to move beyond this.

"Merlin," she said with kindness, "it's best to let it all go. There's been enough secrecy between us. Keeping it in will only cause harm."

Arthur closed the door and moved fully inside the room to stand beside Gwen. His hand settled at her lower back. She welcomed the small gesture. The rise of the morning sun had not diminished her husband's doubts. The walk from their chambers to Merlin's had been quiet and contemplative. Even in silence, Arthur's anguish had touched her. She hoped that Merlin would understand how desperately disclosure was needed for them to go on. 

Merlin took his satchel from the table and set it on the floor. "You should sit."

Gwen felt Arthur stiffen. She gave him no time to state disagreement. Instead, she took his hand and pulled him to a chair. To her relief, he obliged and they both sat.

Merlin chose a chair opposite them. As he prepared to make further confessions, Gwen noted that the boyish exuberance that had always enveloped him was gone. With his mouth drawn and his eyes dull, he seemed to have aged decades overnight. Subconsciously, she reached for Arthur's hand. Deep down, she knew that whatever came next would be difficult for all of them, but maybe for Arthur most of all.

"Nimueh was a sorceress," Merlin said.

"What was the risk?" Arthur asked.

"There was no risk," Merlin answered. "Not for Gwen…I'm sorry. Not for the Queen."

"No harm," she said, giving him a smile of reassurance. "Please go on if there's more. There is more, isn't there?"

"He thought there was a risk to you," Arthur said. "Gaius said the situation was different. What were you afraid of? What was the situation? Don't make me drag this out of you."

Merlin finally met Arthur's stare. Gwen's gaze darted between the two men. If there was a way she could ease this, she would. Merlin's hesitation warned that whatever he confessed next was worse than his confession of magic if that were possible. She flexed her fingers against Arthur's. His grip tightened in response. Without words being spoken between them, she knew that Arthur understood her fears.

"Merlin," he bit out.

"Nimueh was asked to perform a spell to create a life, but there were consequences. Magic requires balance," he said. "When life is given, a life must be taken."

"I've heard something like this before," Arthur murmured under his breath. "Why were you afraid for Guinevere? Magic was not used to create our child."

"I wasn't thinking," Merlin said. "She was fine the last time I saw her and then, she was not… So I saw her laying there, I did not want to make a mistake and cause her harm."

"I don't believe you."

Gwen gave Arthur a hard look. He glared back at her. 

"No, I don't believe him. He's not telling us the truth. He's lying. Again."

Arthur convinced her, so Gwen turned to Merlin. "It is true, isn't it? You thought magic was used?"

Now, color returned to his face. Crimson stained his cheeks like it had been painted on. "You've been married for quite some time and now, you're with child. I couldn't be sure of how…" 

Again, Arthur bristled. White, hot anger radiated from him. Indignation, too. Gwen nudged him with her elbow before he caused bodily harm. 

"At first, we chose not to, but I assure you magic was not involved until last evening," Gwen said, holding her embarrassment at bay. "Now, tell us about the spell Nimueh performed and who requested it of her."

"This is a story that Arthur already knows," Merlin said quietly, "but he was told it was a lie. I told him it was a lie. I didn't see any other way around it at the time."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was years ago. Morgause showed you a vision of your mother—"

"No." Arthur pushed from the chair. "No! You said it was a lie! That Morgause was using sorcery to deceive me! You told me that! I believed you!"

Tears glittered in Merlin's eyes as he too rose from his chair. Gwen remained seated. She wasn't sure what to think. It was all too much, but it was necessary. Yet, why did it have to cause so much pain?

"I know and I'm sorry," Merlin said. "You would have killed Uther and that would have hurt you worse than anything!"

"It wasn't your choice to make!" Arthur cried. 

"You would have killed him!" 

Arthur shook his head. "Is that what caused the ban on magic? Don't stand there looking perplexed! You have all the answers! You always do. Is Nimeuh's spell—my birth and my mother's death—the reason for Uther's ban? His killing all those people? The slaughter? The hypocrisy? Your subsequent lying!"

"Arthur, please!" Gwen rose and went to him. "Stop it. Merlin is not the enemy."

"I'm not blaming him, but don't you understand? He's known all of this for years." He looked past her to glare at Merlin. "Were you storing it up to shock me on my worst day? What was the purpose of the secrecy?"

"I didn't see another way," he whispered. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm still the same person."

"No," Arthur said, shaking his head. "No, you're not. You're someone I don't recognize."

"I suppose I should leave then."

Gwen wanted to answer, but the right belonged to Arthur. He was the King. He had the final say. Her role as his Queen was to support him. Even though that meant remaining silent as he took her hand and stormed from Merlin's chambers without sparing the other man a glance or another word.


	12. Power of Love Unconditional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More questions and answers in response to the magic reveal.

Part Twelve

Days had passed and Merlin remained in Camelot. Without an official order to leave, he couldn't force himself to move on. Besides, where would he go? Back to Ealdor hardly seemed right. He very well couldn't wander the countryside when he knew that he was needed in Camelot. Or at least, he wanted to be needed. With Morgana still unaccounted for and Mordred's destiny a horror yet to unfold, Merlin had no choice but to unpack his satchel and wait it out. 

Of course, Gaius stopped by. They shared the evening meal together. Merlin was certain the older man would be there for the first and second meals if Merlin hadn't put his foot down and promised that he wouldn't leave without a proper good-bye if it in in fact came to that. 

Without the threat of his secret being revealed, their conversations were far more open than before if that were possible. Merlin supposed bearing his own bane had been troublesome even if he hadn't been fully aware of it. While his magical abilities continued to remain hidden from the majority, the small few who were aware—Arthur and Gwen—more than made up the difference. 

Merlin hadn't seen them since Arthur stormed out of his chambers and took Gwen with him. After spending nearly every waking moment of his life with Arthur for close to a decade, the loss was overwhelming. As was the loss of Gwen's warm and understanding friendship. Merlin supposed he had taken that for granted as well.

While he had feared Arthur's reaction, he had never truly considered Gwen's. It was foolish of him not to for she had been his first friend in Camelot. So sweet and kind. Her role as a monarch had forced a bit of hardening around the edges, but tenderness still remained. He would only lie to himself if he did not admit how it warmed him greatly when she wrapped her arms around him and thanked him for saving her life and the life of her child. Even while Arthur stood glowering at the door. 

After awhile Merlin grew tired of his thoughts. Gwaine's offers of a trip to the tavern held no interest either. Yet staying within the confines of his chambers were becoming a big much. Why imprison himself? So far, Arthur hadn't decreed it and at this moment, Merlin desperately needed fresh air at the very least. He would be careful and not disturb anyone. 

Once in the corridor, he debated whether to risk a walk in the nearby woods or find his solace on the roof. In the end, the roof won. It was close enough that he could see the world while not feeling banished from his home. Besides, the time could come when he would wish for a walk on the roof. Arthur's silence would end and Merlin's fate would be decided. Until then… Merlin sighed. He would wait. What else could he do?

The flat roof offered him a majestic view of Camelot's lush countryside. He marveled at how the citizens really had prospered under Arthur's reign. If war happened, all of this would turn to waste. He vowed to himself to do whatever to not let that happen.

He continued along the perimeter, taking in the busyness of lower town with its markets and tavern. More steps brought the training ground into focus. Vibrant red flashed in the corner of his eye and he reared back to find Sirs Lamorak and Gaheris staring back at him. He also noted how their hands clutched the hilt of their swords, ready to draw on him at a moment's notice.

Stunned into silence, he had no words of defense. To his relief, Gwen stepped from behind them. 

"I'm safe." She glanced briefly at Merlin before fixing both knights with a firm look. "You may give us a moment."

"King Arthur ordered us to stay with you," Lamorak said.

"I understand," she said.

Merlin did, too. Arthur didn't want her alone with him. That hurt just as much as Arthur's silence. He took a step back. "I'll leave—"

"No!" Gwen moved to Merlin. "No, you may not."

"My Lady," Gaheris said, "the King—"

"I know what the King wants and I am not telling you to disobey him. However, you are guarding me and I wish for you to do so from over there." She pointed to the far side of the roof that faced the Northern countryside. 

Lamorak conceded with a bow. "Very well, your Majesty, as you wish."

Gaheris hesitated for only a fraction of a second but he too decided to follow the Queen's will. Merlin could not help but bite back a smirk. Gwen definitely had a way about her. Being with child suited her more than he dared admit aloud. Only a few days had passed since he last saw her, but in that time, she had become more radiant than on her wedding day or even her coronation ceremony. She absolutely glowed. Looking at her, there was no way he would ever regret revealing the truth. Their world needed her in it. 

A series of loud grunts and shouts and then the clanging of metal on metal broke him from his reverie. He and Gwen moved simultaneously to the stone wall to look down at the training session. Even from the height and distance, the graceful skill and dogged determination of Arthur was hard to miss. Some of the new knights hung back and the squires simply sat on the ground and watched. The King's expertise was a sight to behold.

"Do you see where the addition was made to the armory?" she asked.

Merlin looked where she pointed and nodded. So relieved that she hadn't ordered him away, it came to him slowly that he had said only a couple of words.

"When Elyan and I were young, there was a fence. Elyan would stand right over there and watch the squires train. I'd come after him. I never told him, but I liked to watch, too."

"Did you ever get caught?"

She smiled at the memories. "Our Dad knew, but if you're asking if he came after us…then the answer is no. Elyan wanted to be a knight more than anything."

"He became one," Merlin said. "A fine one."

"On that day, he said that Dad would have been proud of me." She ran her hand over her swelling abdomen. "I hope he knew that Dad would have been proud of him, too."

A very loud grunt reached them from below. They looked down to see Arthur now alone and vigorously attacking a practice dummy. His anger was hard to ignore. Merlin glanced at Gwen to see if she shared her husband's sentiment. He was surprised to find her staring at him.

"Those years ago when sickness swept through Camelot and my father nearly died, an enchanted poultice saved him," she said. "Did you do that?"

"My Lady—"

"Please, don't do that. Don't put that wall up with titles and formality. Arthur's down there hurt, angry, and confused—"

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" she asked.

"Hurt. Angry. Confused."

"Yes." A bench rested along the wall and she carefully lowered herself onto it. "I'm all those things, but I need answers, Merlin. We've known each other too long for the mysteries to remain."

He sat at her feet and crossed his ankles. He clenched his hands together as he said, "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I saved your father. I never intended for you to be accused of witchcraft! I will always regret that."

"Not enough to tell me the truth," she said softly. 

It was the slight tremble of her bottom lip that did it. Years of keeping secrets had to come to an end, but he wasn't sure how. Having the conviction was nothing without the ability to follow through. How did he convince himself that striding naked was right when all his life he'd been taught to cover up everything? None of them would ever understand how hard it had been for him.

 

"Nothing I did was ever intended to cause you harm. I swear."

"You've prevented harm a lot, haven't you?" she asked. "I can see this is hard for you, but Merlin, it's hard for me, too. You and I were friends for so long. You came along after Elyan left and I felt this…closeness… to you. So many times I came to you when I had no one else. It hurts to know that you never felt like you could come to me."

"Gwen…" He began, but that was all he could manage. Her pain was evident. And it was true. She had come to him so many times. Before Arthur, Gwen ran to him and he wanted to be the one to help. She was the first person to see that he could help and didn't dismiss him as an awkward boy who jumped at his own shadow. He didn't want her to ever doubt how much he cared for her.

"I know," she continued when he remained silent, "that when I became Queen, propriety demanded a certain distance between us. But that's no excuse for before! All those times before, Merlin. Did you use magic when you found me in the woods after Morgana enchanted me? I know an arrow struck me…

"Gods, Merlin! It pains me that I have to ask. Not because I am the Queen, but because we were friends—"

"We are friends—"

"Then tell me."

"Yes, I saw you as yourself and I came back that night to find you," Merlin said. "I took care of you."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she gave him a sad smile. "Why is it so hard for you to talk about it with me? Is it because of Arthur? I understand what you risked when you saved me and our child. I will be forever grateful to you and Arthur is, too."

"He would disagree with you."

"Not about my life," she answered. "His behavior now is… You know his heart, Merlin. I ask that you not be too disappointed in him and give him just a little more time. Uther raised him to be a certain way, and Arthur has gone against him in every way imaginable, including his relationships with both of us. He trusted his instincts and it hurts him deeply that he could be wrong."

"Arthur isn't wrong to trust me."

"He's convinced that you haven't been honest about everything. That there are layers of secrets."

Merlin stared at her. Of course there were more secrets. He lived his life in a web of secrecy. In a world where his very existence meant death, he had no choice! What could he possibly say to reassure her when he had no words to reassure himself?

"Until you are completely honest, Arthur has every right to continue to doubt you," she said.

Merlin nodded. He didn't expect anything more and since the word banishment hadn't been uttered, he dared not hope for anything less.

"I understand your choices were limited," she said as if reading his mind. "Uther was heartless when it came to magic. Truly, I cannot imagine keeping a secret like that for so long. It must have been dreadful. Of course, Gaius knew… It amazes me that you never slipped in front of anyone else."

"Lancelot knew," he said quietly. "I slipped in front of him."

"Lancelot?" 

He nodded. "All…all along. He always knew. He never told."

She became quiet. He couldn't be sure if it was the knowledge that Lancelot knew or the mention of his name that had silenced her. But once his name was spoken, Merlin felt compelled to tell her the rest.

"Gwen…there's more."

"What more?" she asked. "What more could there be? Lancelot knew. He never said a word to me, and he never told Arthur."

"This has nothing to do with my magic."

"What, Merlin?" 

He stared deeply into her dark eyes. The trust had not fully returned, but he could sense that she was trying hard to find it again. His next words could damage that. Admitting this was a risk, but he couldn't live with the tangled mess anymore. Besides, if he were her, he'd want to know. He would always curse himself for not doing or saying something sooner. However, the saying went better late than never. He hoped they knew what they were talking about.

"That wasn't Lancelot who returned. Not the true Lancelot."

"No, it had to be. He knew his stories," she protested. "He knew me."

"It wasn't him. It was a shade. Only a form created to resemble the man we knew. I'm not sure, but I think Morgana—"

"Morgana? Are you saying Morgana created something that looked like Lancelot, or did she raise him from the dead?" Gwen asked. "Merlin, he was Lancelot! He was real!"

"In form, yes, but the Lancelot we knew went through the veil and he didn't really come back." Merlin stood. Her agitation worried him. Although he'd cast a spell to protect her from Morgana's potential enchantments, he could not prevent nature from taking its due course. If this conversation caused complications to her condition, he'd never forgive himself. "Perhaps, you should calm down. Let me find Gaius for you."

"I don't need Gaius! You're telling me that Morgana made this…this man to appear like Lancelot? He returned just as Arthur and I were about to marry." She rose from the bench. She folded her arms in a protective gesture around her middle. "How long have you known? Did you know when I was banished? Why didn't you tell me? Or Arthur? Why are you telling me now?" 

"I didn't know how to tell you and then it was too late." 

The explanation sounded weak even to Merlin's ears. Yet, it was the best he could do. How could he explain his suspicions without revealing his true nature? Then again, how could he let his two dearest friends suffer the pangs of heartbreak and betrayal when the cause was suspect?

"If he wasn't truly Lancelot, how can I be sure that I too wasn't…" She looked at him with such disappointment. "Arthur and I could have lost each other forever."

"But you didn't. You found your way back together—"

"Merlin…" 

She pressed a balled fist to her mouth and moved away from him. The knights fell into step quickly to flank her on either side. Moments later, Merlin stood on the rooftop alone, wondering if he had made things worse instead of better.

AG*AG

Arthur had driven himself and the knights to near exhaustion. In the heat of the moment, it seemed the physical exertion would be the key to unlocking the mass of confusion that raged within him. But as the sweat trickled into his eyes and drenched his tunic, Arthur feared the answers would continue to elude him. Guinevere had begged him to refrain from acting in haste. For her—because she still lived—he had honored her request. Still, the days ticked by and betrayal tasted bitter with each passing morn. 

"Sire?"

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow as he turned to face his most trusted knight. Leon stood before him. The tall, brave warrior's expression looked as haggard as Arthur felt. Alone on the practice field, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Leon had been privy to Merlin's deception or if he had been kept in the dark all these years, too.

"Yes, Leon." He sheathed his practice sword, folded his arms across his chest, and waited.

"Have you found fault with my methods?"

Arthur frowned. "Fault?"

"Yes, My Lord." Leon kept his gaze steady as he continued. "The practice section this afternoon was different. Well, you… You instructed me to lead it, but then you arrived—"

"And I took over," Arthur finished for him. He shook his head. "No. Your methods are above reproach. I trust I did not overwork them."

"Well… We were building up to your exercises," Leon said with a hint of laughter.

Arthur nodded. He had overdone it, but Leon was too diplomatic to say so. "The first round at the Rising Sun is on me, but only the first round."

"Yes, Sire."

They parted ways inside the castle. Arthur found himself heading toward Gaius' chambers. In the days since Merlin's confession, he had not spoken with the physician either. Knowing that Gaius had protected Merlin hadn't really been a surprise, but Arthur would have been a liar if he failed to acknowledge the hurt. How many times had he faced betrayal and deception? Would there ever come a time when the realization did not inflict pain? 

A few steps from the chamber's door, Arthur changed his mind. He turned and headed in the opposite direction. But another day for facing Gaius was not to be. The old man rounded the corner just as Arthur turned. 

"My Lord."

The eagerness and hesitation created an interesting intonation in the old man's voice. Arthur was quite sure he'd never heard it before. Gaius had always spoken with authority and certainty. Regardless the situation. 

"Gaius." 

They stood still in the hall. Neither moving. While the possibility of Merlin's banishment had never been far from Arthur's thoughts over the past few days, he hadn't considered what to do with Gaius. To ignore his role in the secrecy of Merlin's magical abilities would be remiss, but to send the old man away seemed worse. Uther always had the highest respect for Gaius' counsel and honestly, so had Arthur. After losing so many that he had known since birth, he did not relish the idea of losing another.

"Sire?" Gaius waved a hand toward his chambers. "Do you have a moment?"

Arthur answered with a curt nod. Once inside and with the door closed, he still found himself unable to relax. If the physician sensed Arthur's unease, he was skillful enough to conceal it. 

"Do you wish to speak with me?" Gaius folded his arms in front of him. The stoic expression on his face revealed nothing.

"I do," Arthur said. "Guinevere's health… She seems in fine spirits to me. Is she?"

"She came by this morning," Gaius said. Upon Arthur's nod, he continued, "I introduced her to Talia—"

"Talia?" On reflex, Arthur's hand clutched the hilt of his sword. 

"Talia Myr. She comes from a long line of midwives, Sire."

Arthur eased his hand from the sword. He vaguely remembered Guinevere mentioning the Myr family and wondering which of the sisters would be her midwife. With Morgana unaccounted for, he could not be too careful with the safety of his wife and their unborn child.

"Is she the best of her family?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't have suggested her otherwise."

"And she has no known allegiance to Morgana?"

The older man bristled. "None, Sire."

Arthur recognized that Gaius had taken offense to his question, but he didn't care. Too many times the wrong words had been spoken or the wrong questions asked and Arthur had been caught unaware. Never again. He would not be left defenseless if he could help it. 

He glanced back at the door, but he didn't move toward it. Then his gaze swept around the room. Shelves of books lined the upper wall. Even more books littered the tabletop. Potions and tiny bottles filled the spaces that books failed to claim. So much knowledge in one space, Arthur pondered. He wondered what information the older man had stored inside his head that wasn't fit for a linen page and how would that serve him, too.

"Is there anything else, My Lord?"

"Yes."

Gaius reared back from the sharp tone. Arthur couldn't help that. It just happened. Nor could he help the interrogation that followed.

"You've always known the full circumstances of my birth."

"I—"

"You knew what Uther requested of Nimueh…the bargain they made. You knew it would cost my mother her life—"

"No!" Gaius stepped toward him. "I didn't know until afterward. If I had known… I would have tried to warn him. But you knew your father, there would have been no stopping him."

"Even knowing that she would die? That he would lose his Queen…his wife?" Arthur asked.

"He wanted a son," Gaius said quietly. "He wanted you. They both wanted you."

Arthur shook his head. "All these years and no one ever told me. Not Father…not you…not Merlin. Only Morgause showed me the truth and everyone of you allowed me to believe it was a lie. After Guinevere became with child, you knew my fears. You knew… You should have told me."

"I promised your father."

"After everything, was he truly deserving of such loyalty?"

Gaius sat at the table and beckoned for Arthur to do the same. Once he was seated, the old man continued, "Uther was not always the rigid man you knew. Despite his hardness, he loved you very much. Surely, you know that."

"He was once willing to burn you at the stake."

"You stopped it."

Arthur sighed. "Could he know my birth would cause my mother's death? Was he that ruthless?"

"He wanted a son…an heir." Gaius reached out and patted his forearm. "Arthur, he wanted you. I know this is not the answer you seek, but this is the only one I can give you. Your father was—"

"Heartless—"

"No—"

"I know he loved me," Arthur said, looking down where the healer's old, lined hand still rested on his sweat and grass-stained arm. Gaius always represented gentleness even when he revealed unpleasant truths whereas his father never paused for such niceties or consideration. Gaius described Uther as ruthless. Arthur found the word accurate as well as a few others. 

"My father wanted me to be a cold, merciless ruler like him. It has pained me at times that I have not lived up to his potential, but now, I am relieved to know I am nothing like him."

Arthur stood and moved toward the door. Suddenly, the weight of the day tired him. He wanted rest and the comfort of Guinevere's arms around him. 

"Sire?"

He paused at the threshold. Gaius still sat at the table. It seemed to take considerable strength to pull him to his feet. Arthur realized then that banishing him was not the solution. Gaius could stay in Camelot, but he had yet to make a decision about Merlin.

"If you have any other questions," Gaius said in a quiet, but firm voice, "you need only ask."

Arthur nodded once. Perhaps on one small score, the season of deception by omission had ended.

AG*AG

Gwen's steps led her to a familiar path. With her silent protectors in close attendance, she allowed her thoughts freedom to roam and her feet the will to guide her. The conversation with Merlin proved enlightening and rather unsettling. In the years since her banishment, return, and then marriage, she had pushed the question of her feelings for Lancelot aside. But to know that they could have been false—truly false—well, that threw her off. She needed to sort it out. In the past, Gaius or Merlin would have been her confidante, but not now. Now, she needed the counsel of someone who had never betrayed her and had never caused her to question her integrity.

The de Maris manor still loomed as majestic and regal as it had in Gwen's youth. She couldn't remember the first time she stepped foot inside its massive walls. Her earliest memories were of her holding fast to her mother's hands on one side and Elyan's on the other as they joined their mum at work. Since Gwen left the manor to serve as Morgana's handmaiden all those years ago, her visits back had been infrequent. To be honest, the place still reminded her of her mother and that was one loss she continued to feel every day.

The servants hid their shock at Gwen's unexpected visit with bows and flurries of movement. It really was improper of her to just appear on someone's doorstep, but Merlin's latest confession had rattled her so. If she thought Arthur could handle the conversation, she would have waited to talk with him, but his display on the practice field was enough to show that he was far from a good place to discuss Merlin objectively. Let alone the past and Lancelot. 

Lancelot.

Their friendship had been so dear to her, but his return had almost cost her everything. In the years since, her best defense had been to push him from her mind. She hadn't welcomed that solution, yet, it had seemed the only one suitable to her. How else could she prove herself faithful to Arthur than to never think on the noble, true knight again?

"My Lady!" Lady Angelica entered the drawing room with her hands outstretched and a warm smile on her face. "You are a vision."

"Please call me Gwen," she said, falling into the other woman's embrace. "I've reminded you of this countless times."

"And you will remind me countless times more."

They hugged like long lost friends although it had only been a few months since the older woman had attended a feast at the castle. Their conversation had been cut short for reasons that Gwen no longer recalled. Not that it mattered now. When their hug ended, Gwen accepted the offer of a seat on a cushioned chair and waited as Angelica settled on the one adjacent to the end table that stood between them. Sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, beaming in light and bringing in warmth. Two things Gwen had always remembered about this room.

"It is so good to see you," Angelica said. "I will have Connie bring us a tray of wine and cheese."

"None for me."

Angelica paused. Her bluish-gray eyes studied Gwen, but her face revealed nothing. Once satisfied, she nodded once. "Very well, no treats for us. How can I help you?"

"Do I look so obvious?"

"You look like you need a friend," the older woman said, not unkindly. "I am honored that you came to me. I hope I can help."

Years ago, this woman had been dear to her, almost like a mother. Right now, Gwen wished that her mother was still alive. Her wisdom was unmatched. Deira Degrance would know the right words to say and how best to guide her only daughter. But alas, she was long departed from this world. Gwen clenched her hands together and sighed. Being Arthur's Queen had its advantages, but one disadvantage was keeping counsel. So much had to be contained within for fear of treachery and betrayal. Although she knew that Angelica de Maris could be trusted, the same could not be said of everyone.

"Gwennie?"

Their eyes met then. She hadn't been called that name since Elyan died. So much had been lost in such a short time. Every time Arthur donned his chainmail and rode away, she had to accept the possibility of never seeing him again. A slight flutter brushed inside her at that thought. Gwen rested her palm against her middle. 

The movement was scant enough to capture the older woman's attention. Excitement replaced the worry that had crept into her eyes. Angelica reached for Gwen's free hand. 

"It is true? I wondered at the feast. You had this look and you're glowing… Although your eyes are troubled…" Angelica gave her hand a slight squeeze. "I could be out of turn, but I wish you would trust me. I have only ever had your best interest at heart."

"I know," Gwen said. "It's true, but you mustn't say anything. We are waiting to make the announcement."

"Leon has been worried about you."

Gwen frowned. "Has he?"

"Of course, you've always been dear to him," Angelica said. "He never confides in me the full details. I'm only his mother, but I've noticed the extra guards. Whatever transpired at Morgana's hands could not have been easy. Then, there's Elyan. Seeing you and him reminded me that a part of Deira lives." Her voice became husky. She pressed a hand to her mouth and drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's true I miss your mother. I always will. You came to me for counsel. Am I wrong? How may I help you?"

"I did come for counsel," Gwen confessed. "Do you remember Lancelot?"

Angelica nodded. "He hasn't returned, has he?"

The night Arthur banished Gwen from Camelot, Gwen had felt lost and abandoned. Even Elyan had had no words for his sister. She packed up the small Degrance cottage and loaded the little wagon alone. After she covered her meager belongings, she slipped back inside, preparing herself to spend her last night in the only home she'd ever known. To her surprise, Lady Angelica stood waiting for her. 

News of the banishment had not been quiet, nor had the reasons why. The dear woman had taken no heed of rumors or innuendo. Instead, she had wrapped Gwen into a warm embrace and loaded her purse with coin. They had not spoken of Lancelot or Arthur. Just knowing that at least one person still cared was enough get Gwen through the hardest hurdle of leaving. Upon her return, Lady Angelica was one of the first to welcome her back.

"No," Gwen said. "I discovered that what happened all those years ago might have been caused by an enchantment."

"This surprises you?"

"It offers a fitting explanation," she said. "For years, I've pushed it out of my mind. Arthur and I have never discussed it."

"How reliable is your information?"

"Very."

"I personally never believed you would dishonor yourself or your love for the King," Angelica said. "It went against your character. Do you wish to speak with him about this?"

"He's forgiven me," Gwen said.

"As it turns out, you've done nothing that requires forgiveness," Angelica said gently. "You seek my opinion on this, correct?"

Gwen nodded. "I haven't felt this uncertain about anything in a long while. I'm very angry, too."

"As you should be." Angelica took a moment, as she seemed to consider her words carefully. "It is not my place to tell you how to conduct your marriage. The love you two share is obvious for anyone with two eyes and wishes to see it. I can only tell you to trust your heart. If your heart is telling you to speak with Arthur, then you must. But only because you feel it's for the best."

Gwen weighed Angelica's advice carefully as she journeyed back to the royal chambers. Since the second proposal of marriage, Arthur had never once condemned her and questioned her loyalty. It was as if the incident with Lancelot had never happened. Yet for Gwen, she had never forgotten and had never fully forgiven herself. 

"Guinevere!" 

Arthur appeared from behind the changing screen. His damp hair stood on end and redness dotted his cheeks. Comb in hand, he sauntered toward her. She inhaled his clean male scent and appreciated the fit of his white tunic and the soft smile on his full lips.

She grabbed his comb seconds before his arms snaked around her. Her rounded belly brushed against his hard, flat torso. The fluttering began anew as he covered her neck in kisses and then claimed her mouth with his lips and insistent tongue.

The welcome hug and kisses came to a slow end. Gwen had to catch her breath for a moment. 

Arthur smiled down at her. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." 

"Dinner will be here soon. Would you like a bath? Mine was just removed—"

"No, not yet." She sat on the bed and he joined her. She noted how relaxed he looked now considering the intensity of the earlier training exercises. 

"Where have you been?"

"I called on Lady Angelica."

"How is she?"

"Well," she said, smiling as Arthur placed his hand on her belly. "She knows we're with child."

He stiffened.

"Don't worry. She won't tell anyone. Not even Leon."

"Is that why you visited with her?" he asked. He knew that Angelica and Gwen's mother had shared a close bond that was akin to sisters despite the roles of nobility and servant.

"No, not really," Gwen said. "How did you spend your day after the training?"

"Council meetings. I spoke with Gaius. He said that Talia is the best of the Myr family."

"That should please you."

"It does as long as she has no allegiance with Morgana."

"I've known Talia and her sisters since I was a girl," Gwen said. "You need not worry about that."

"I asked Gaius about my parents and Nimueh. I can't understand why he'd risk his Queen's wife to have a child."

"Maybe he didn't know—"

"He knew." Arthur's jaw tightened.

"Is that what Gaius told you?"

"Gaius is still loyal to my father. I suppose he always will be. I love our child, Guinevere, but I would never risk your life for anything," he said. "Nothing in this world is more important than you. Tell me you know that."

"I know." She dropped the comb on the bed and pulled him into her arms. "I know."

Without Gwen's doubts being said aloud, Arthur had managed to quell them. Perhaps she would confide what she'd learned at a later time, but for now, it was enough to know that his love was unconditional. Still.


	13. Heart of the Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall-out from the magic reveal continues.

Part Thirteen

Arthur loved this time of the morning. He was not the king or a fierce warrior. As the golden rays of light peeked over the horizon and his body curved against the warmth of his beloved Guinevere, he was simply a man. Her husband. There were no demands of him only whatever she needed from him and of that he gave freely, willingly, and eagerly. Before their servants arrived and unwittingly disturbed the cocoon of solitude that protected them from the outside world, Arthur could ignore the obligations and dangers of his position and relish in his responsibilities as the man who loved Guinevere and their unborn child with all his heart.

She murmured softly. He gently caressed her cheek. Like the rest of her, her face was becoming full. The covers shifted as she rolled toward him. Like a hungry man starving for sustenance, his gaze feasted on her ripe form in his sleeping tunic.

Gods, she's spilling out of it, he thought to himself. The white gauzy material stretched across the curves of her breasts and growing belly. To his delight and concern, the tunic was not enough to properly cover her. When she murmured again, he told himself that the improper fit of the tunic was the culprit, as any dutiful husband would, he made moves to free her of it.

"Arthur?" she said, in her early morning husky tones. "What are you doing?"

"Helping."

He pulled the tunic over her head and tossed it toward the foot of the bed. She responded by cupping his face between her hands.

"Helping whom?"

"You," he replied, trying to sound indignant, but failing miserably. "Well, you looked uncomfortable. I wanted to help ease your…discomfort."

"Hmm…"

The glimmer in her soft brown eyes dazzled him. If he wasn't already a hopelessly, besotted fool, he would have been in that moment. Her beauty mesmerized him. There was an internal glow that he couldn't explain that drew him to her. He supposed it had always been there.

"Arthur?" she said with a giggle. 

"Guinevere," he murmured against her throat. He trailed kisses along her jawline to her ear. When he captured her earlobe, she gasped and giggled again. He leaned back to find his answer in her eyes. "Yes?"

She answered with a kiss. A deep kiss that pushed Arthur onto his back and left her settled on top. He placed his hands at her waist. After they parted, she made quick work of removing his sleeping pants and tossing them aside with the same vigor as he'd tossed the tunic. With them both bare and ready, their coupling began with heated intensity. Then an insistent nudge from Guinevere's belly to Arthur's midsection pulled him from his passionate haze. He slowed their pace until their release came as sweet, delightful torture.

"Maybe we shouldn't anymore," he said, later as she settled against him.

"We can for a few weeks more," Guinevere said. "I'm fine, Arthur. I feel fine."

At that, she shivered, which reminded him that they were uncovered. While pulling the sheets over them, he realized that they could no longer delay their announcement. In the couple of weeks since her dreadful illness and Merlin's revelation, she had become the epitome of good health and concealing their coming addition had become almost an impossible chore. 

"We should make the announcement."

Her single nod surprised him. He expected her to share his misgivings about Morgana. His sister's whereabouts were still unknown and her hatred of Guinevere would only intensify when knowledge of their child reached her. Instinctively, he squeezed his arms tighter around her.

"We can't hide it forever," she said, returning his embrace. "We can't live in fear of Morgana either. Besides, that's not the only subject worth discussing."

Arthur glared at the ceiling. Discussing Merlin after finding bliss in Guinevere's arms did not bode well for his spirits.

"He deserves a definitive answer." She rested on her elbow and forearm to look down at him. "Merlin goes out of his way not to disturb you, and you do the same to avoid him. Neither of you can go on this way. You're worried that Morgana will hurt our baby and me. You should set Merlin's mind at ease. Who better to protect us against her than him?"

"Guinevere, you make it sound simple."

"Believe me, I know it isn't."

The troubled expression on her face worried him. He had seen it before. Weeks ago and a few times since then. He straightened into an upright position and she did the same, tugging the covers around them lest their servants entered. 

"I know you spoke with Merlin on the roof," he said. "Did he ask you to speak on his behalf?"

"No, of course not."

"Something happened that has worried you—"

She moved to leave the bed, but he wouldn't let her. "Arthur—"

"Guinevere, please. The knights said that you were upset." His temper began to rise, so he made himself stop. He had waited for her to come to him, but with things becoming tense in the West and the East, he had almost forgotten about his concerns about her conversation with Merlin until now. What had the sorcerer said to his wife to cause her discomfort? Arthur wanted nothing more than to demand an answer, but he knew better than to choose that tactic with Guinevere. She would only shut down.

"Are you angry?"

Her question didn't come as a surprise. Even with his temper rising, anger wasn't the emotion driving him. He shook his head. "No, not too much."

"Hurt?" she asked, quietly, placing her hand in his. 

He shrugged. It was true. He was hurt. Very much so. "I haven't been angry in days," he said. "Is it another secret?"

Her silence provided his answer. To gather his thoughts, he rose from the bed and gather the clothing they'd tossed aside. After sliding his pants back on, he stretched his tunic to make it more comfortable for Guinevere to wear. She pulled it on without complaint. Once they were both dressed, he sat beside her on the bed and took her hands.

"Have you forgiven Merlin for all the years of lies?" 

He stared intently as he waited for her answer. The question did not serve to sway his decision, but he needed to hear her opinion. Other than Gaius, no one in Camelot had been closer to Merlin than Guinevere. The deception could not have been easy for her either. They hadn't discussed it, and Arthur scolded himself for being remiss and so focused on his own pain and disappointment. He should have been open to his beloved's hurt, too.

"Forgiveness?" She sighed. "I've lost too many people to lose another one because Merlin made a mistake—"

"Mistake," Arthur bit out without thinking.

"Yes," she said firmly. "A mistake and there have been many. None of us is immune to error and the need for forgiveness. None of us."

"Of course not."

"I'm not saying that Merlin was right to remain silent for so long or your anger or hurt is wrong," she added," but we must think of Camelot."

"I never stop thinking of Camelot. It comes after you," he said, squeezing her hand and then he placed his hand on her distended abdomen, "and our child. The years of peace were…a blessing. When Sarnum had Morgana in captivity, we enjoyed the life I always envisioned for us. It is a horrid thing to admit, but it's true.

"Do you remember the Disir?" 

She nodded. "I remember not wanting you to go and being very afraid that you would not return."

"They wanted me to acknowledge the Old Religion and allow the return of magic," he said. "Merlin advised me against it. He said that magic had no place in Camelot. I don't understand why he would say that. There, Guinevere, in that moment, he had an opportunity. I sought his counsel and was truly open to it, but he chose to… While it was not a lie, it was a decision that was fraught with misdirection."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be." He cupped his hand against her cheek. "Just tell me. I will not promise to hold my anger, but I will promise not to yell."

She gave him a half smile. He was hoping for a little more, but half was better than nothing at all.

"I don't know where to start," she said, covering his hand with hers. "It's true that I've been troubled and I've wanted to come to you…"

"But I made it impossible. I am sorry about that."

"You've had reason to be upset."

Arthur noted the faint tremble of her bottom lip. Water had started to pool in the corners of her eyes. Whatever distressed her would not be a simple burden for her to release. He slid closer to her and kissed her temple. 

"I am your strength, Guinevere."

"I know—"

"Then let it go," he said softly. "I cannot bear that you're hurting and you won't share it with me."

She drew in a deep breath. Then the words came. 

Arthur listened in silence. He hadn't expected to hear the name Lancelot. Forcing himself not to react had taken every ounce of willpower that he possessed, but as she continued, the old hurt of love betrayed faded. He had forgiven the indiscretion years ago anyway, but to hear the truth. The real truth. That Lancelot had never returned. No, the true, loyal knight had walked through the veil to save them all. 

The man who bore Lancelot's face, voice, and stories had only been an imitation conjured by Morgana. No doubt his treacherous sister had also enchanted Guinevere with the same sorcery she used to create Lancelot's twin. Morgana's deception came as no surprise, but for Merlin to know all along… For Merlin to sit back and watch Arthur banish Guinevere from Camelot. For Merlin to watch Arthur agonize over the loss of her. 

"Arthur?" Guinevere said. "Please, say something."

It took a moment for him to find the words. He had remained true to his promise to her. No yelling. To be honest, he was beyond anger. He couldn't identify the emotion that was coursing through him. Was there a word for what he felt? 

The silence lengthened and he sensed her concern by the tension in her body. That alone drew Arthur from his deliberations. He kissed her cheek. "Thank you for telling me. I wish you had not carried this knowledge alone for so long."

"I did not want to upset you."

"I know." He stood and headed to the wardrobe and began to change into proper attire.

"Arthur, wait—"

"No, Guinevere, I can't."

Without the aid of his manservant, he quickly dressed and left their chambers in search of Merlin.

AG*AG

The Darkling Woods beckoned Merlin or maybe the promise of peace in nature. Weeks of silence from Arthur and now Gwen had begun to take its toll on him. He missed his friends. They were like family. Gaius tried to keep his spirits up, reminding him that if Arthur wanted him gone, he would have been banished by now. But that wasn't enough. Deep down, Merlin knew that he had earned this and this had been what he'd feared. When he first met Arthur all those years ago, he thought the prince nothing more than an arrogant, brutish lout. It didn't take long for him to recognize that Arthur was more than that. Sure, he could play the role of bully, but he had honor. After close to a decade of lying, what did Merlin have?

He picked up a good-sized branch and used it as a walking stick, not that he needed it. He simply liked the feel of it in his hand. Trees stood tall overhead and sunlight filtered through the branches. A few gentle breezes blew in and Merlin realized how much he liked this forest. It was nothing like the woods of Ealdor. Not that his home was without character, but these woods, so close to Camelot, held a tender place in his heart. And if he did return to Ealdor—

Wait? he thought. Where did that come from? He couldn't leave Gaius. The old physician was getting on in years, and dammit, Merlin wouldn't leave him unless he was forced to do it. But…he couldn't go on like this forever. A pariah, but not officially. Something had to change and it had to change soon.

"Merlin!" 

The booming voice startled him. He looked up to find Gwaine staring down from a ridge. A bulging leather sack hung from his saddle. He carefully guided his horse down to meet Merlin in the meadow. 

"What are you doing out here?"

Merlin shrugged. He had been eager for conversation. Now that the opportunity came, he was at a loss. "Just taking a walk, I guess. You?"

"Hunting. Can't do much else," Gwaine grumbled, climbing down from the horse.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked as he took rest on a fallen log.

Gwaine sat beside him. Restlessness seemed to make it hard for him to sit still. He picked up a handful of rocks and began to toss them one by one. "Percival is still out there."

"Mordred took a party out—"

"He's a babe, still wet behind the ears!" Gwaine proclaimed, throwing the rocks with added force now. "Yes, he's a good knight, but that's Percival out there. I mentioned it after council yesterday and Arthur said to wait. He wants me here. Waiting here and twiddling my thumbs like a lady-in-waiting! He's lost confidence in me. I'll show him. I'll go off and—"

"Don't," Merlin cut in. "If Arthur wants you here, you should stay. You're one of his most trusted knights."

"I feel useless here."

"You're not," Merlin said. He wished he could tell Gwaine his suspicions regarding Arthur's decision, but Gwen's condition was a secret. If Merlin's guesses were correct, Arthur was keeping Gwaine and Leon close by as added protection for the Queen. Otherwise, Arthur himself would have led the expedition to search of Percival. Of that, Merlin was certain.

"You sound sure of yourself," Gwaine countered.

"I am."

Gwaine's eyes narrowed. "How are you?"

"Huh?"

"You're not around much. Sure, you have the fancy new title and new chambers, but instead of flaunting it, you drift around like a ghost. Why?"

Merlin looked away. "I don't know what you mean."

The soft pounding of a horse's trot vibrated the ground. Moments later, Arthur sat high on his steed before them. Both men stood as Arthur dismounted. He gave Gwaine a passing glance and told him to leave him and Merlin alone. Merlin saw the argument in Gwaine's eyes, so he responded with a slight shake of his head. After the knight left, Merlin stood tall and waited. 

"Running?" 

Merlin squared his shoulders and shook his head. "No."

Arthur stared at him. His blue eyes darkened as the silence lengthened. His face reminded Merlin of hard stone. The King seemed impregnable. Merlin realized that the sides to Arthur Pendragon were numerous and this was yet another one that he had never faced.

"I know about Lancelot," Arthur said, his tone quiet and restrained. "Tell me, Merlin. How long did you know?"

Before Merlin could answer, the flash of Excalibur's blade glinted before his eyes. Arthur had drawn the powerful sword and held it, not to Merlin's throat, but close enough to make the implication.

"I should kill you for what you put Guinevere and me through," Arthur said, his voice just above a whisper. "Would you have remained silent if I had ordered her death? What costs have you been willing to pay to keep your precious secret?"

"Not that!" Merlin said, shoving the blade from his face. "I love Gwen, too. I would have stopped it. I would have found a way. I always do. You may not believe it, but… I know the pain of losing the woman you love. That's why I tried to make you see reason or have you conveniently forgotten that? Sire."

Arthur drove the sword into the ground between them. Despite the lack of weapon, white-hot anger burned from the king. If he heard Merlin, the other man couldn't be sure. 

"What other secrets, Merlin? What other lies, excuse me, omissions, have you buried? There must be more. I refuse to believe that Morgana's deception through Lancelot is your best one, yet."

Arthur began to pace and as he moved back and forth in front of Merlin, his tirade continued. "You know, I can't stop thinking about everything! All the years…all those moments that just happened. Then this—this thing nags at me. Why someone born with magic would counsel me to continue to ban it? You had your moment, Merlin," Arthur said, stopping suddenly to face Merlin again. "The Disir warned me not to be closed to the Old Religion. They even, oh so generously, gave me a night to think on it. And me, foolishly I may add, turned to you for counsel. And you instructed me…to keep the ban." Arthur moved in quickly to stand just inches from Merlin. "For what purpose?"

The anger about Lancelot came as no surprise. Merlin had no sufficient reason for not telling Arthur the truth. And yes, he would have found a way to save Gwen if Arthur had decreed her death. But the Disir? He drew in a harsh, ragged breath. Dare he tell him? But on the other side of holding back, Merlin was so very tired of lying. The truth had to be spoken. Hadn't Kilgharrah advised him of this? 

"I was shown a vision," Merlin said finally. "Someone close to you is destined to…kill you."

"You?"

The cold accusation made Merlin flinch. But again, he understood why. The venom in Arthur's eyes and voice stung, but he would see this through.

"Mordred."

Arthur scoffed. "He's just a boy."

"He's not a boy anymore."

"I saved—We saved his life when he was a child," Arthur countered. "You've disapproved of him since he returned. You've been envious of him for quite some time. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I have no reason to lie."

After those words came silence. The two men stared. Years of friendship and camaraderie and affection hung in the air, mingling with the newly acquired weeks of suspicion and hurt. Damage had been done. Merlin wasn't sure what, if anything, could restore the trust they once shared.

"I suppose you don't," Arthur said. "Is that it? Is that everything?"

"Some call me Emyrs," Merlin confided. 

"What does that mean?"

Merlin shrugged. 

"Is…" Arthur looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Then he met Merlin's eyes and asked, "Is your abilities on par with Morgana's?"

"No."

Arthur tried to hide his disappointment. He gave Merlin a half smile that almost reached his eyes. "Very well then—"

"Mine are greater."

AG&AG

Gwen sat patiently on the edge of her bed as her mid-wife tended to her. She and Talia had known each other for years, but Gwen's position as queen had created a slight distance between her and some of her old friends. No doubt serving as mid-wife to the queen was not a position Talia took lightly, however, Gwen wished the other woman would relax. Every time she entered the chambers, she looked as if she was being led to the gallows. 

"You both are doing quite well, My Lady," Talia said as she began to return her instruments to her cloth satchel. 

"I feel more movement," Gwen said, rubbing her hand over her abdomen. "Some times more than others. There is no delicate way to ask this…"

"Relations, My Lady?"

Gwen nodded. Heat burned her cheeks, but she ignored it. She had told Arthur that their lovemaking was no cause for concern. Still, she had to be sure. This child meant the world to her. She would not dare chance anything no matter how sublime the pleasure she found in her beloved's arms.

"There's no risk to the child. Though should you feel discomfort, stop immediately."

"Of course."

Arthur returned during their discussion. Gwen noticed that he seemed different somehow. She supposed he had found Merlin. She was about to ask Talia to leave when Arthur began questioning the midwife. 

"Is the Queen in good health?" he asked.

Talia bowed and nodded. "Yes, Sire."

"And her appetite is fine, too?"

Talia smiled. "Yes, My Lord."

"Do you foresee any complications? Rather, are there any restrictions that I should be aware of?" 

Gwen sighed. She would not dissuade his interest, though. It pleased her to know how much he cared.

"No, Sire. The Queen has several more weeks until I recommend bed rest. Until then, she should carry on as her body permits."

Talia curtsied and bowed before them and then took leave. Arthur sat at the table and patted his lap for Gwen to join him. She did not hesitate. Although with the additional girth, this maneuver was becoming more interesting with each week.

"We will have a feast on the next full moon," he said, rubbing his hand on her lower back while doing the same on her belly, "and we will make the announcement then."

"That's less than two weeks away."

He nodded. "Indeed it is. Talia's position as midwife is known. I'm sure many already have suspicious about her visits. I fear keeping this secret any longer may not be wise."

She agreed. Many in Camelot remembered the horrors of Morgana's short rule, but that did not mean some did not harbor resentment at her departure. Or at least, the ties to the Old Religion fueled her ability to create allies. Gwen didn't doubt that some supporters still lingered in Camelot despite Arthur's peaceful leadership.

"I'll speak with Vera," Gwen said. The cook had an even temper, but she could become rattled when things didn't go according to plan. 

"I've scheduled a council meeting for this afternoon. I'll tell them about the feast then."

"Am I invited this time?" Gwen asked, toying with the leather band around his neck.

He shook his head. "Rest for you, my Queen."

He tried to smile. Gwen saw that it didn't quite reach his eyes. His hurried departure had been on her mind since he left hours ago. It had seemed wrong for her not to share the truth with him about Lancelot. Although the damage to their relationship had been repaired years ago, she desperately needed to tell him. After all this time, there was no proof that Morgana had enchanted Gwen, too, but Gwen felt it to be so. The sudden desire for Lancelot had arrived and departed without warning or cause. Sorcery was the only explanation.

"What troubles you?" he asked.

"Did you speak with Merlin?"

"I did." Arthur pulled her close so that her cheek rested on his chest. "I found him. In the Darkling Woods."

She sat up abruptly. "Did you send him away?"

"No, he's staying—"

"Arthur?" With a little difficulty, she pushed herself off his lap to hover over him. Her balled fists were planted firmly on her hips. 

"He is not banished," he replied, moving to stand as well. 

"Does he know that?"

"Yes, he knows." Arthur moved restlessly around the room. "I told him, if you must know. He may stay. As long as he wishes. I will not order him from Camelot. He is to protect you from Morgana."

"Is that the only reason?"

She recognized the hesitation on his face. Then his gaze landed on the trio of new dresses on their bed. All in his favorite colors—dark red, blue, and lavender. Any of them would be fit for the upcoming feast. He held out his hand and she slid hers into his.

"These are lovely and you will make them even more so."

"Thank you for your flattery."

"It isn't flattery when it's true." He kissed her forehead. 

A knock sounded at their door and Arthur called for entry. His manservant arrived with the bathtub.

"Sire, your bath as you requested."

"Thank you." 

Bern proved to be an efficient replacement for Merlin and he took his manservant responsibilities to the king very seriously. Steam rose from the tub after he poured the last pail of water in. He set the towels very close by and set out Arthur's clothes. Then Bern stepped in to help Arthur undress, but he waved him off.

"That won't be necessary," Arthur said. "Just see that we—um, I'm not disturbed. You may remove this while I'm at council."

"Yes, Sire." Bern nodded once and departed quickly.

Arthur rolled his eyes as he undressed. Gwen giggled. The manservant's demeanor was taking some getting used to, but neither of them could dismiss his abilities. He was quite resourceful.

"Will you join me?" he asked, standing naked and wearing only a teasing smile.

"Not today, but I will wash your back."

His responding groan of pleasure made her blush. 

He eased carefully in the tub and she reached for the soap and towel. With his back to her, she could frown at his many battle scars without his disapproval. She remembered when he earned most of them. Her warrior. Her husband. It wouldn't do for her to be saddened by his role. He was fearless. That was one of the many things she loved about him. It was something that made her very proud to call him her King and her love.

As she rubbed his shoulders and back, she became aware that his sighs of contentment had become quiet. She rinsed the soap from him and moved around to see his face. The distress that held his features surprised her. He gave her a sad smile and then placed both hands on her belly. At his touch, movement happened inside her womb.

The both laughed softly, but Arthur's expression still held a bit of strain. "Does that hurt?"

"No." She covered his hands and leaned forward to kiss him. He tasted of soap, fresh air, and Arthur. "Tell me what troubles you."

"I've only ever wanted two things…maybe three things in my life," he said. "You as my queen. To be a good king to Camelot and to make my father proud of me."

She ran a wet hand through his fine, flaxen hair. "You have them."

"Now there's something more that I want."

"What?"

"To be good father to our child."

She smiled. "You will be."

He looked down at where his hands still rested on her abdomen. "Promise me, Guinevere, that if anything should happen to me, you'll tell him…or her how much I love…" He drew in a ragged breath. "I love our child, Guinevere. If I'm not here, tell the stories about our first kiss and our second. How you taught me to respect everyone and—"

"Arthur, stop it! You will tell these stories yourself!" She tossed his towel and soap into the bath with him and stormed to bed. Her trembling hands held fast to the bedpost. She willed herself not to cry.

"Guinevere." His stern voice carried over the splashing water. She imagined him stepping out of the tub and padding barefoot across the stone floor. Seconds later, his cool damp arms hooked around her. His stubble-covered jaw raked against her cheek. "I do not wish to frighten you." 

"Why do you say these things?" 

"I want you prepared—" 

"Do you think I'm not? Do you think I haven't been since before we said our vows? I wake up knowing that by nightfall you may not join me in that bed. It is the worst knowledge any wife can have of her husband. Please do not remind me of it again. Love me everyday, but do not remind me—" 

"Ssh… I won't. I won't."


	14. Circumstances of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations abound.

Part Fourteen

Gwen and Lamorak found Leon patrolling the upper bailey. The sun was just starting to rise, but Lamorak's torch was useful in providing light to highlight her old friend's tall form and concerned features. She pulled the heavy cloak closer around her, thankful that it still hid her growing abdomen, and waited for his reproach.

"It's before dawn, My Lady," Leon said without preamble. He glared at the younger knight. "Does the King know that she's about?"

Lamorak cleared his throat. "Sir Leon, the Queen—"

"Is right here," she said. "I am going for a walk and I do not wish to disturb Arthur."

Leon's mouth tightened at the corners, but whatever thoughts he held, remained inside. 

"Will you accompany us?" 

He stared for a moment. Gwen remembered him being rendered speechless when they were children. It was rare, but it did happen. The look on his face reminded her of one of those times. So many years had passed since then. She could hardly believe how much had transpired. 

"Yes, My Lady," he said, his expression softening a fraction. He called over another knight to finish his patrol and he moved into place beside Gwen. 

The trio moved through the castle quietly. She claimed the lead with the knights close beside her. Slumber had not come easy. She'd spent the better part of the night awake and troubled. Her response to Arthur's plea left her shaken as much as his request had frightened her. As his wife, and especially as his Queen, he needed her to remain strong. Collapsing into tears weakened them both. Arthur had to know that should anything happen, he could always depend on her to do whatever he asked. She dreaded to think that would include telling their child that his deceased father had been a wonderful, loving husband, fierce warrior, and just king. She had been true when she disclosed that she had long prepared herself for the day he might not return from battle, but that did not make her any less eager to never see that day's arrival.

They left the castle in silence. Their footsteps were soft along the cobblestones. Gwen paid no heed to the worried glances that were shared over her head between the two men. As long as they did not attempt to detain or deter her, she was content to walk and enjoy the brisk morning air. The next full moon would change their lives. She knew with certainty that Arthur would not allow early morning walks and no amount of coercing would influence any of his knights. Not that she would dare. The announcement would put them all on alert, Gwen most of all.

Deep below the folds of the cloak and the fabric of her dress, the unborn child captured Gwen's attention with a powerful nudge. Her steps came to an abrupt halt, which caused both knights to regard her with concern. Leon reached out for her and she took his arm. A faint smile passed her lips as she realized where they were.

"I found Elyan here so many times," she said. 

In the early hours, the training ground appeared unassuming. Just mounds of fresh green grass. But when young men took claim of that bit of land, the space transformed, as did the young men, taking their innocence and turning them into warriors. 

"He wanted to be a knight," Leon said, his eyes clouding over, as he too seemed to remember those days. "He never said a word, though."

"To me either, but I knew." She sighed. Her brother's youthful frustration broke her heart. There was nothing she could do about it. 

"Who knew that when he returned, it would happen?" Leon said with a smile when they moved away from the training field. 

"Arthur knighting him was one of the happiest moments of his life."

"Guess his happiest." Leon smiled down at her. A teasing light danced in his bright blue eyes.

Gwen laughed. "I can't begin to. Elyan was always so serious. It's hard for me to imagine."

"You should know this," he said kindly. "It was the day of your coronation. He was so proud of you. He couldn't sleep the night before. I found him on the battlements, just pacing. We sat up till morning, talking about old times."

"Frogging at midnight?"

"Of course," Leon said with a faint chuckle. Then his voice cracked a bit as he added, "And other things."

Gwen nodded. She understood without him saying more. It was the other thing that finally drove her brother away. But she didn't want to dredge up that memory. With the promise of life fluttering inside of her, she dared not dwell on sadness and circumstances that could not be changed.

Companionable quiet settled among them again. Gwen was glad that she had requested the presence of her old friend. Angelica's hint that he worried about her had come as a surprise. He was always so busy with training and conquests that it never occurred to Gwen that he'd have time to voice his concerns about her welfare to his mother. She supposed a friendship such as theirs would last forever.

By now they had reached lower town. The sun had not risen fully, but there was enough natural light for Gwen to peek into her former home. The cozy, little cottage was now the residence for a family of three. She could see a father balancing a little boy on his knee at the table. The mother stirred a pot at the hearth. 

Like at the training ground, more memories flooded back. Deira. Tom. Elyan. She had lost them all far too soon. And now, Arthur wanted her to prepare for his potential demise, too. Gods, how could she bear it? Was it her fate to be left alone? She blinked away sudden tears and clenched her jaw. But there was nothing she could do for the sadness that gripped her.

Leon squeezed her hand, which still rested on his forearm. "May I be of help?"

"I wanted that for Elyan," she said, nodding toward her former home. "A family. I hope the same for you, too."

"And for you," he said.

She summoned the courage to smile. "And for me."

"Don't worry about Morgana," he told her. "We'll find her. She won't hurt you again."

The return to the castle was filled with more pleasant conversation. Gwen shared with Lamorak stories about Leon and Elyan's childhood adventures. Leon, while remaining respectful of her position as Queen, imparted a few tales of his own.

The two knights escorted Gwen to the royal chambers. A fluttering of noise on the other side caused both men to draw their swords and enter first. There they found Arthur red-faced and donning chainmail and armor. When his eyes rested on Gwen, he immediately ordered everyone out. Leon gave her a faint smile and closed the door, leaving her alone with her very riled husband.

Arthur grasped her shoulders and squeezed very gently. All the while his blue eyes flashed and burned into hers. "You can never do that again."

"I promise," she said. Her words were mostly muffled as he pulled her close. She sank against him, not minding the cold metal against her cheek. "I won't, Arthur."

"Why, in the name of Camelot…?" He released a ragged breath as he slowly released her. Bit by bit, he removed the chainmail with her help.

"I'm sorry for last night."

"Whatever for?" he asked perplexed. He laid the chainmail over the back of a chair and tossed the armor on the table. "Guinevere, you have nothing to apologize for."

"Weeping—"

"No." He pressed a finger to her mouth. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was out of turn."

"You were not." She kissed his hand and clutched it to her chest. "Tell me what happened with Merlin."

Arthur frowned. "Guinevere…"

"Please, Arthur. I feel that I should know. I want to know."

AG*AG

Merlin could never imagine the sensation of relief that filled him after being free of all the secrets. For the first time in weeks, if not years, he slept in peace. Of course the worry about Mordred and his role in Arthur's foretold death still lingered, but overall, Merlin found his steps lighter now that several burdens had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Yet joy did not accompany his relief. True, having Arthur aware of his demise at Mordred's hands afforded the King some advantage, as well as, the knowledge that Merlin's powers exceeded Morgana's. Merlin chuckled to himself at Arthur's expression upon that revelation. No doubt even with everything that had transpired some of the belief that Merlin was still young and hapless would linger. Still, Merlin couldn't say that was the message he read in Arthur's eyes when he asked him to stay and protect Gwen and their unborn child. And he did ask. As King, Arthur could have commanded the order. A command would have stung, but Merlin would have done it anyway. But to ask… No, Arthur's request signaled far more than the King was ready to say aloud.

With those thoughts turning round and round in his mind, Merlin rose early, saddled Old Blue, and the two set out far beyond the Darkling Woods. Since their last meeting, he'd received word that the Druids had moved their camp. The keepers of the Old Religion remained on this side of the Camelot border, but just barely. It was well after noon before he reached their camp. Like the last time, his name whispered in the breeze for his ears only.

"Emyrs."

Familiar tingles rippled along his forearms and teased the back of his neck. The presence of magic always did that to him. He wondered if others could sense him as well.

A few minutes more of riding and he was greeted by Cynwrig. Elva stood at his side. Her eyes held a smile. His remained unreadable. Merlin dismounted. One of the young men stepped forward to tend to the faithful horse while Merlin followed the Druid camp leader inside his tent. Elva followed a few steps behind. 

"Our position has not changed," Cynwrig began before Merlin could speak. "If you came on Pendragon's behalf, you came in vain."

"No, that's not why I'm here," Merlin said. He looked behind him to where Elva still stood. He beckoned for her to come in. Once she was standing beside Cynwrig, Merlin spoke again. "You were right about Gwen."

Elva's face darkened with concern. "How does she fare?"

"Well," Merlin said. "We almost lost her, but…I. I saved her."

"You used magic."

Merlin couldn't be sure if Cynwrig's statement was an affirmation or a condemnation. He collected his thoughts before answering. "I saved my friend's life and that of her child's."

"So, the King knows?" Elva asked.

"Yes," Cynwrig responded quickly. "He and his Queen, but no one else. Pendragon knows he's Emyrs, but he's unaware of what that truly means. You confided many things."

Elva gave Merlin a tentative smile. Cynwrig's expression remained strained. He seemed unsure of what to make of the events.

"Why are you here if not to ask for help against Morgana?" the other man asked, perplexed and suspicious.

"You saw what happened with Gwen and between Arthur and me, didn't you?"

Cynwrig gave one slow nod.

"And you know of the prophecy concerning Mordred," Merlin added.

Elva's slight gasp was the only noise heard in the room. For several moments, Cynwrig didn't speak. When he did, he suggested that they all sit. After they sat comfortably on the pillows on the floor, he said, "The prophecy is not a secret among our people."

Merlin frowned. He knew that. Kilgharrah had warned him almost a decade ago. If the dragon had the foreknowledge of Mordred's role, no doubt others with the gifts of the Old Religion had the same knowledge!

"But there's more that you seek?" 

"Would you let him speak?" Elva said, cutting in. "Please, Emyrs. What do you ask of us?"

Cynwrig grimaced, but he didn't correct her.

"Has it changed?" The question rolled from Merlin quickly. He grasped that he hadn't formed it coherently by the strange looks on their faces. He slowed down and asked again, "Now that Arthur knows…everything, has that knowledge changed anything? Will he still die by Mordred's sword?"

Cynwrig clasped his hands together. Without a word passing between them, Elva rose to get a pitcher of water. She brought it back and poured the water into a bucket. When she sat again, she chose a position beside Merlin. They watched Cynwrig as he gazed into the water and murmured in a low rumble.

Minutes passed. Merlin felt restless. He started fidgeting, but Elva closed her hand over his and squeezed. The rippling sensation occurred at first contact. Their eyes met and he read her silent message. Patience.

Eventually, Cynwrig became free of the vision. He pushed the bucket away and looked Merlin full in the face.

"Nothing has changed."

"That can't be," Merlin said, rising to his feet. "I can…I can stop it."

"You can't stop Fate," Cynwrig said.

"But it isn't fair!"

"Perhaps you can consult the Disir," Elva said, also standing, "and make a plea on Arthur's behalf."

"Elva," Cynwrig spoke sharply, "we should stay out of this. The Disir has made their decision. Fate cannot be deterred."

Merlin mulled over Elva's suggestion. There was merit. Was it the judgment of the Disir that ordered Arthur's death sentence? If so, could they not see reason enough to overturn their decision? Arthur knew about Merlin's abilities. He didn't order Merlin's death or his banishment. Was that not enough to prove he was nothing like his father?

Old Blue was waiting for Merlin when he stepped outside the tent. He moved to mount, but Cynwrig stopped him.

"Morgana is waiting."

"For what?" 

Cynwrig's eyes reflected helplessness. "That I do not know. Only when the time comes, she will strike."

AG&AG

The embankment that overlooked the training field had a gentle incline. The soft, plush grass added to the area's perfection. Arthur would have preferred over stuffed pillows and the protection of stone walls, but he knew that Guinevere relished the warmth of the sun on her face. She enjoyed the fragrance of fresh cut grass and the tickle of gentle breezes. He wanted all those things for her as he shared what he'd learned from Merlin.

A basket of grapes, pears, and cheese sat between them. He moved them aside and moved across the blanket to sit closer. Her knowing brown eyes lit up. A smile came to her full lips. So beautiful, he thought. He wondered if she had any thought to what happiness her smiles brought to him. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Just then, Leon barked an order to the knights he was training. Gwen jumped and took Arthur's hand. He smiled at her. She laughed. 

"I wasn't expecting that."

"No," he said. "Training is loud. Would you like to go inside?"

She shook her head. "No, I like being out here. Reminds me of Elyan."

Arthur nodded. She had shared with him stories about her childhood and how she had often found Elyan on the border of the training field. He'd confided how he had been aware of her even then. If she believed him, he wasn't sure, but he knew that the memories of Elyan never left her. 

So there came his hesitation. The promise to tell her everything seemed a horrible vow to make. The memory of her weeping in his arms frightened him. Guinevere didn't cry easily. As she collapsed in his arms, he was reminded that this was his burden not hers. He was supposed to protect her from the horrors of the outside world. Yet because of him, she'd been terrorized by them. She'd lost her brother and had come close to losing her life and the life of their unborn child. He couldn't stop a loud sigh from expressing his weariness.

"Arthur?" 

"Yes, love?" He slid closer to her until his thigh was pressed against hers. He should care about propriety, but he just needed to touch her. 

"The past year has been a trial—"

"I'm sorry," he began.

"Please don't," she said. "Yes, it was not easy, but we are still strong. We have each other." She took his hand and placed it inside her cloak to rest on her abdomen. "We have our future. We will be stronger yet."

Her optimism was a blessing. The life growing inside her was filled with better promises than he'd ever uttered, including the one that had brought them outside. As usual, she was right. Their first three years of marriage had not prepared him for the past year or more that began with Guinevere's abduction. They had endured a great deal. Even prior to becoming his Queen, she had proven her strength. Perhaps it was his own weakness, causing him to hesitate. Uther had always warned him that others would stop at nothing to take Camelot, but the knowledge that death would come from the hand of someone Arthur trusted… 

Gods, just the knowing made the words lodge in his throat and refuse to budge. He looked up from where his hand lay hidden beneath the folds of her cloak to meet her unwavering stare. He could continue the delay no longer. But he would have to get there on his own terms.

"I meant what I said. Merlin is allowed to stay," he said. "Is that what you wanted?"

"I must admit that I have been very upset with him. I'm not sure if I've forgiven him, but I'm trying."

"Is it all of the secrets?" Arthur asked, "Or one in a particular?"

"I don't care for the secrets. I thought he and I were better friends, but I suppose I do understand his reasons…his fear." She looked toward the training knights. Her voice was strained when she spoke. "It was the confession about Lancelot that hurt the most."

"I could have killed him for that," he stated honestly. "To think I could have ordered your death based on a lie—"

"No, Arthur," she said, hoarsely. "Now, we know that Lancelot was not the true one, we have no answer for my behavior. We cannot say that my actions were based on a l-lie or sorcery—"

"Of course, Morgana was at fault!" He cupped her face and gently tilted her head so that their eyes met. "Of course! I have no doubt. Neither should you."

"I wish I could be sure, but…" She drew in breaths. "I don't understand how it all happened. We were so happy. Then he just appeared…with his stories. One morning, he even brought me a bracelet and begged me to wear it."

Arthur wondered if Guinevere was listening to herself. The answer was right there and it boggled him how she failed to notice. 

"Guinevere! Did you not hear yourself?" he said, unable to contain himself.

"Yes, I said I don't know how you can be so certain."

"You also said that he gave you a bracelet which he begged you to wear. See? A bracelet. I would wager it was an enchanted trinket crafted by my dear sister." As tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, he brushed them aside and asked, "What say you?"

"Oh, Arthur! Do you really think so?"

"Yes," he said. "I do. Had I known about Lancelot at the time I never would have doubted you. Everyone can see how much you love me."

"I do!" She cried, laughed, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

He held her close, his nose buried in the curve of her neck. Now, he thought, with her doubts finally quashed, he could confide the prophecy. Then a firm little nudge pressed against his torso. He wasn't sure if their child had issued encouragement or a warning.

When they pulled away, she asked, "Have you forgiven him?" 

"I'm trying. Have you?" 

"Trying. I trusted him, Arthur, as much as I trust you." 

"For me as well. His silence almost caused me to lose you and I don't know, Guinevere. I know he has helped us many times over, but some of his decisions… Looking back on events, I can't help but wonder." 

"Wonder what?" 

"Wonder why?" Arthur said. "Why after all our years together he wouldn't just tell me the truth about himself when I became king?" 

"There's something else, isn't there?" she asked. "What has he told you that you haven't told me?" 

Arthur wasn't too surprised that she could read him so well. It's one of the many reasons why he loved her. "I would rather not upset you." 

"Your silence upsets me enough. Do you trust me?" 

"How dare you ask me?" he asked, deeply offended. 

"I would beg of you to show me. Mine may not be as broad, but my shoulders are just as strong. Whatever you're keeping, dear, I promise I am not too weak to withstand it." 

He paused to admire her. There, the warrior again. His beautiful, fierce, angelic warrior. How could he ever believe she would allow him to remain silent? Maybe some other woman would, but not his Guinevere. Not his Queen. 

Arthur saw no reason to mince words or use a softer interpretation. He simply related what Merlin had told him about the vision of Mordred killing him on a battlefield. He felt a twinge at saying the words aloud, but once said, it felt right sharing the knowledge with her. Again, he wondered why Merlin had remained silent for so long and if he had ever planned to warn him about Mordred. 

At the end, he remembered another detail. "Oh, and the Druids call him Emrys." 

"What does that mean?" she asked. "Emyrs? Not just Merlin?"

Arthur shrugged. He had pondered the same.

"We must do something about Mordred—"

"I can't order his execution," Arthur said. "I have no just cause, and…"

"And you care for him," she said softly. "Yet if the vision is true, you wish for me to prepare for your death and remember to tell our child about you."

"Guinevere." He tried to sound stern, but he failed miserably. Her unspoken point had merit.

"I care for Mordred, too, but I love you. I will not bury you just to save his life, and if it means that he must lose his, in order that you live and our child has a father…" She took his hands and squeezed. "Arthur, you do what you must so that our child has a father, or so help me, I will."

"Guinevere," he said, power in his tone. "You will not insert yourself in this."

She struggled to stand. He helped and she offered him a tight smile of gratitude. Toe to toe, they faced off on the embankment. Dark brown ringlets swirled around her cheeks. The fire flashing in her brown eyes warned Arthur not to reach out and twirl a curl around his finger despite the desire that burned inside him to do so. What was it about her anger that sparked his passion? True, he was becoming just as angry too, but that did not diminish his need for her.

As if completely oblivious to his desire, she pressed her hand flat against his chest. She spoke just above a whisper, but there was fire in her tone. "I will not be a widow, Arthur. I will not."

With that said, the Queen spun on her heel and headed up the embankment toward the castle entrance. Sirs Safir and Lamorak, who had been keeping watch at a discreet distance, moved in to flank her on both sides. Bern also appeared to fold the blanket and take the basket. But Arthur was only dimly aware of his manservant and the protective knights. His Guinevere had his full attention. She marched away with her back ramrod straight and her long dark curls swinging in the wind. He knew that determined gait. She would not be made a widow if she could prevent it and by Gods, he had no intention of her becoming one. But if Mordred had to die for Arthur to live, Arthur knew it could not be by his beloved's hands. No, there had to be another way, and he had to find it.


	15. Part Fifteen

Part Fifteen

 

The upcoming full moon brought a flurry of activity. Upon Merlin's return from the Druid camp, he had been consumed with increasing his knowledge of his abilities. The planned feast demanded he be prepared for anything. He learned spells that exceeded anything he ever imagined. By the day of the feast, he felt that he was ready. He still wasn't exactly sure if he could live up to the idea of _Emyrs_ , but he was that much closer to it.

 

He spent the morning of the feast looking over the banquet hall. While the servants set up tables and chairs and decorated the room, he set about fortifying the windows. He was on the last one when Gaius approached.

 

"There you are!"

 

"Gaius," Merlin said, mid-spell. He could tell from the healer's expression that Gaius was aware of his actions. Merlin quickly finished the spell before he faced his good friend. "I know what you're thinking."

 

"Have you lost all your senses?" Gaius grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alcove away from the bustling servants. "Are you determined to be exiled, or worst? Executed?"

 

Upon those questions, Merlin had no choice but to confide all. "Gaius, Arthur and I have spoken. My actions are done with his approval."

 

Gaius' jaw dropped. "I don't believe it."

 

"You should." Merlin confessed the rest. That Arthur knew about Lancelot, Mordred, and Emyrs.

 

"Did you tell him about Kilgharrah, too?"

 

"No!"

 

Gaius just stared. His frown of disapproval aged him. How many times had they disagreed? The fear of Merlin's gifts becoming known had been a tie that bound them. Now that the secret wasn't just theirs, their relationship was changing.

 

"Why not?"

 

Merlin frowned. "Because…"

 

The old man sighed. "You have to be careful, Merlin. These are still dangerous times. If the wrong person learns any of this and carries it back to Morgana—"

 

"Arthur and Gwen would never betray me."

 

"It was never my plan to betray you—"

 

"Gaius—"

 

"Hear me, Merlin," Gaius cut in. "Magic can be used for ill as well as good. Morgana is well versed in methods that I can only imagine. Do not underestimate her. Surprise is your best weapon. I hope you haven't forfeit it."

 

"This time, I know what I'm doing."

 

Gaius nodded, but he didn't look convinced. They parted ways soon after. Merlin followed the long passageway back to his chambers. His fancy royal attire was already draped across the foot of his bed. A steaming hot bath waited for him. He started to strip off his clothes when his door banged open.

 

"Gwaine!"

 

"What?" The knight slammed the door shut after him. "Really, Merlin, you screech like a girl."

 

"You ever heard of knocking?"

 

Gwaine scoffed. "You sound like Arthur."

 

Merlin frowned. He wasn't too keen on that comparison. "May I help you?"

 

"That tone is definitely Arthur." Gwaine pulled out a chair and straddled it. "Enough about our king. I want to know the truth."

 

"What truth?"

 

Gwaine leaned forward. "Tell me about Kilgharrah."

 

"Kilgharrah?" Merlin tried to ignore the loud thumping of his heart and the way his stomach lurched. He hid his discomfort behind a smile. "What's that?"

 

"Merlin," Gwaine said in a tone void of humor, "I overheard you and Gaius."

 

He looked away and tried to collect his thoughts. But Gwaine didn't give him time for that. The fearless knight stood and strode across the room to stand directly across from Merlin.

 

"You should know by now that I can be trusted."

 

"I know," Merlin said. "If I don't answer, it isn't because of lack of faith. You will soon learn that."

 

Gwaine's face became a study of contemplation. He didn't frown, but he appeared thoughtful. "You’re not the lad you used to be."

 

He shook his head. "No, I'm not."

 

"I can't stay here—"

 

"Gwaine?" The sudden turn startled him. Merlin looked at his longtime friend to try to decipher the other man's thoughts. But he couldn't. Magic could only do so much. "You're leaving?"

 

"No, you can’t talk me out of it. I'm leaving after the feast. Percival is out there," he said. "I have to find him. I want you to come with me."

 

AG*AG

 

_The arrival of the Pendragon heir created a stir throughout Camelot and the rest of the kingdoms. Gwen had never seen Arthur happier or more proud. He held another feast in their child's honor. The attendees filled the banquet hall and spilled out onto the courtyard. She wished her parents and Elyan were alive to share the event, but she could feel their love holding her close and tight like a warm cloak. Arthur smiled down at her before he raised his goblet high._

_Gwen remembered the silence in anticipation of Arthur's speech, but what she would never forget was the loud screech that interrupted him. Chills rippled down her spine. She looked at Arthur and screamed, "The baby!"_

_With the knights fast on their heels, they raced to their child's chambers. Mayhem awaited them. The baby's guards lay lifeless on the stone floor. Arthur drew his sword and stepped over them, bursting into the room. Gwen followed him inside. Her dagger clutched in her hand._

_To her horror, her greatest fear was realized. The crib was empty. Despite the flame glowing from the hearth, the chambers were deathly cold. The nursemaid huddled in the corner. Her murmurs were little above a whisper and hard to understand at first. Arthur seemed ready to run her through until Gwen placed a hand on his forearm._

_She sheathed the dagger, gave it to Arthur, and knelt before the trembling woman. With a calm she didn't feel, Gwen asked, "What happened?"_

_In truth, she had no knowledge where she drew her strength or restraint. All she wanted was to slap the woman senseless, but she knew the outburst would not provide answers._

_"Sh-she just snapped her fingers and I was powerless," the nursemaid said through tears. "Believe me, My Lady. I would have given my life. I promise you."_

_"Who was she?" Arthur asked, taking Gwen's hand as she rose to stand. "Who was the woman?"_

_"The High Priestess," the nursemaid said in a hushed whisper. "The Lady Morgana."_

_The admission created a blur of activity. Arthur and the knights donned chainmail and armor. They set off before daybreak. Gwen could not have stopped them if she tried. Somehow, she saw everything that happened next. Arthur's approach to Morgana's dark, demented dwelling and then Mordred's advance that happened before Arthur could prepare to defend himself. Mordred drove the sword straight to Arthur's heart. The King's blue eyes held surprise until his life's blood drained from him and he was nothing more than a corpse._

 

The image of Arthur lifeless with Morgana and Mordred standing victorious over him was enough to wake Gwen from her nightmare. Bloodcurdling screams tore through her. Sweat dripped from her body and soaked the sheets.

 

"Arthur!"

 

"Gwennie!" Soft, gentle hands grasped her shoulders and shook her. "Gwennie, wake up!"

 

"Arthur?" Gwen blinked. Tears made her world a blur. She rubbed her eyes.

 

"No, dear. It's Angelica."

 

"Oh!" Gwen inhaled a sharp breath. A soft nudge from her midsection reminded her that the vivid images had only been a nightmare. "Where's Arthur?"

 

"He's hunting, remember?"

 

By then, loud knocks on the door had become rather insistent. Lady Angelica gestured for the handmaiden to allow the guards to enter. Sirs Lamorak and Safir managed to look stern as they inquired about their queen.

 

"I'm fine," Gwen said. "Please bring the King back home."

 

Angelica reproached her with a look, but Gwen ignored her.

 

"My Lady, the King was adamant that we stay with you," Sir Lamorak said.

 

"I'm more so that one of you bring him back to me," she said sharply. "You may not disobey me in this."

 

"I'll go, My Lady," Safir said.

 

The two knights left. Soon after, Angelica requested new bedclothes for the Queen. Once they were alone, she did not hesitate to speak, but Gwen was anticipating her.

 

"I know you disapprove of my actions," she said, leaving the bed with a small amount of difficulty.

 

Angelica moved swiftly to assist her. "I offer no such opposition. When I was in my months while carrying Leon, I often had horrid dreams."

 

"I fear that this is not merely a dream." Gwen grabbed a towel to dry her face and neck. "I have had bad dreams. This was too real to be a nightmare."

 

"I understand—"

 

"No, you do not. You cannot possibly. You have never experienced the torture I did at Morgana's hands. I know what she will do to have the throne. I know how much she hates the possibility of my happiness." Gwen wrapped her arms protectively around her expansive middle. "Arthur must be found as soon as possible. I will not rest until I see him."

 

"Perhaps we can start preparing for the feast until the knight returns with him?"

 

Gwen frowned. "You are trying to placate me."

 

"As much as possible." Angelica went to her. "If you don't let me, I'll have to call for Gaius and I'm sure you won't like that."

 

"Not at all."

 

"If not for me," her dear friend said, "consider the unborn child. Please?"

 

Gwen nodded. For the child and for Arthur.

 

AG*AG

 

Hunting had always been one of Arthur's favorite pastimes. With a bow and arrow in hand and an animal in his sights, he was primed for adventure. The victory of his spoils made the outing that much more exciting. However, this hunting expedition had not filled him with that sense of adventure. Midway through the hunt, an overwhelming urge to return to the castle refused to give him peace. Despite his desire to use the time to bond with the four visiting kings and queen, he only heard part of the conversation. He could not stop thinking of Guinevere and feeling as though he needed to be with her.

 

Finally Queen Annis drew him aside. "Arthur, does our companionship bore you so?"

 

"No!" he sputtered until he recognized the mirth in her wise eyes. "Am I so obvious?"

 

"Only to a woman who remembers the pleasures of her marriage bed—"

 

"My Lady!"

 

She laughed. "Go, Arthur. Enjoy yourself with your queen. I'll make sure we're not late for the feast."

 

He showed his appreciation with a quick squeeze of her hand. Then he mounted his steed and headed home. His manservant and guards were a breath behind him. Halfway home, they encountered Safir racing toward them. Fearing the worst, Arthur didn't wait to hear the knight's message. He quickened his pace and they all raced home.

 

Inside Camelot, he listened to Safir's rushed explanation. By the time Arthur reached the royal chambers, his breathing had returned to normal. Safir returned to his post beside Lamorak and Arthur strode in. To his surprise, Gwen was fast asleep. Angelica sat beside her, gently stroking her face. She rose upon his entrance and bowed.

 

"My Lord."

 

"Lady Angelica," he murmured in greeting. "How is she?"

 

"She just closed her eyes."

 

"Safir said she was upset."

 

"She had a bad dream."

 

"It was more than a dream," Gwen said, awakening. "Arthur, you're alive."

 

"Of course, I am."

 

The soft sound of the door closing told them of Angelica's exit. Arthur ridded himself of his hunting attire and sat on the spot where the older woman had vacated. He took his wife's hands.

 

"Has there been any word regarding Mordred?"

 

"Nothing. I'm sending another patrol in the morning."

 

"They do know to eliminate him—"

 

"Guinevere." He sighed. "I can't do that. I can't execute him without cause."

 

"He's going to kill you. I saw it!"

 

"My dearest…my love," he said, cupping her face, "it was a dream. I swear I regret telling you."

 

"You mustn't ever keep anything from me." Her brown eyes flashed with such fire that he was taken aback.

 

"I won't," he said. "I don't like seeing you this upset. You shouldn't be agitated. I'll send for Gaius."

 

"I don't need Gaius or one of his tinctures." Gwen sat up in bed. "I'm fine now that I see you."

 

"Me too," he said honestly. He bent forward her and kissed her gently.

 

Arthur's words were true. His distress vanished the moment she woke up. As he cupped her face, he wondered about their plan. Was it the right approach? Was her bad dream simply that or a premonition? Merlin's certainty that Mordred would be the agent of Arthur's death was enough to make him proceed, but how could be sure that this would work? His instinct told him to believe, but a little bit of doubt lingered.

 

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

 

"I feel we should continue with the feast."

 

She smiled at him. "I know that we should."

 

"You do?"

 

She squeezed his hands. "Your plan is sound, Arthur. I trust it because I believe in you."

 

He smiled.

 

"So help me out of this bed, My Lord."

 

"Whatever you wish, My Lady."

 

AG*AG

 

Percival had parted ways with his men so many days ago that he'd lost cost. When the wicked woman found him, he was tired, weak, and nearly starved to death. He thought that was the worst of his circumstances until he had been in Morgana's holding cell. Over a year before, she and the Saxons had kidnapped him and Gwaine and forced them to work as slaves. That had been back breaking, but at least they'd been fed.

 

This time, she kept him locked in the dark and only tossed him molded pieces of bread when she had a mind to. He could not imagine anything worse than this and he knew that if he hoped to live, he had to break free.

 

The chance came on the next full moon. She either was distracted or bored. Percival didn't know or care. The cell didn't lock properly and that's all that mattered to him. He crawled out of the den of despair and under the dark night moved steadily into the forest and far away from Morgana's lair.

 

For several miles, he trudged through the woods until the moon's light illuminated the outline of a shed. Tired and famished, he summoned the strength to pull himself inside. He leaned against the back wall and slept.

 

"There now."

 

A persistent nudge on his arm pulled him from slumber. If he could, he would have jerked away from the touch, but he didn't have the strength. Nor did he have the voice to protest.

 

"It's not much, but it'll warm your belly."

 

A steaming bowl of broth rested on the ground beside his hand. He tried to reach for it, but he was too weak.

 

"Oh my, you haven't the strength." Small hands lifted the bowl and placed them against his mouth. "Slowly now. Too fast and you'll make yourself sick."

 

Percival obeyed. He took a tentative swallow. The broth was hot, but it didn't burn his mouth or tongue. The broth was flavorful. It reminded him of chicken. There was no meat, though. It was all liquid and very filling.

 

"Slowly, remember?"

 

He listened. To the words and to the voice. It didn't belong to a man or a boy. No, this was a woman. She sounded young, but not like a child. The moon's glow filtering inside the shed didn't provide enough light to shine on her face. But she sounded nice.

She sounded lovely.

 

That was Percival's last thought before he drifted back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and the kudos! Real life, in the form of back surgery, has had me in recovery mode for a while. I'm trying to figure out a writing schedule for my fics so that the interconnection with Destined for Greatness that was hinted at a while back will make sense. ;) A small reveal happened in this chapter. I won't say where or how, but the nugget is there. ☺ If you're reading both stories, I believe another piece will be in the next chapter of Destined for Greatness. I'll let you know for sure in my note. patience. 
> 
> P.S. The next chapter will reveal Arthur's plan and why Gwen is 100% about standing by her man!


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